Serpentine tendrils of memory
Wrap themselves around the brain
Emitting noxious fumes into crevices
Poisoning the blood and spreading through the body

After trauma, where do we belong?
If we think on it, we are dwelling in the past.
If we ignore it, we are in denial.
If we feel anger, we are self destructive.
If we are bitter, we are unforgiving.
If we are depressed, we are not trying.
If we act happy, we don't need any help.
If we cry, we are avoided.
If we scream, others are afraid.
If we are around people, we feel like outcasts.
If we are alone, we want to associate with others.
There is no place for us after trauma.

Deflecting the street
A quiet gray day
  Muted movement
  Empty echo
Estranged heart at bay

Where exposed trees meet
Practicing their play
  Weighed excitement
  Candid outflow
Fate’s stinging array

Breezy love I greet
Though distilled thoughts stray
  Lonely lament
  Distorted row
Malleable heart of clay

Briefly touching heat
Qualities of day
  Stifling raiment
  Annoying glow
Emotions end will fray

Pain I cannot beat
Unheard words I pray
  Empty payment
  Hidden rainbow
Hibernate away

Hearing everything and nothing.
Whisperings from cracks in the walls
Scream louder than words spoken from a loved one.

******* bitter blood from a wound,
Metallic iron coating the tongue.
A relished prize from the clawing and biting.

Viewing an isolated flag at half mast,
A stark contrast to the pearl blue sky.
Red stripes drifting in the wind with no inherent strength.

The scent of decaying wood,
Musty, stale, and earthy,
Lacking ventilation, suffocating in rot.

Flesh feeling swollen and disjointed,
Sensing pressure from an unknown source.
Disabled nerves that are unable to move properly.

Dreams of disappearing,
Yet wanting to stay.
When will the conflict be over?

The old woman Lori
Gray hair, cloudy eyes
Her face tells the story
A hundred black skies

A priest and a baker
Argue over souls
The priest will forsake her
The baker consoles

But she can’t ignore them
Though hard she may try
The cold judge will condemn
While the people cry

Your constant cry, beckoning me
Promising safety from the angst
“Come to me, I will give you peace.
Bring your savage desires
And I promise you deliverance.”
But you replaced the angst with destruction.

You declared your promise of joy
“Hide your spirit away and you can sleep.
Put the music down and forget all shadows of independence.
Your song does not deserve to be heard.”
I was enamored with you, and desired your joy.
I put myself away and forgot myself in your slumber.

You became the core of my desires.
What friend could possibly give me more, or so I thought.
“Keep our love secret.
Friends, family will not understand how much I love you.
They only seek to tear you apart from me.
Keep our love close so that I can slowly **** you.”

To end this extinction of character,
I must leave you behind.
You have been my friend, my savior.
You have kept me safe, or so I thought.
I love you, I need you.
How could you be yet another thing that pretended to love me.
How can I trust and believe in deliverance
When all those I have relied on have betrayed me?
Yet, somehow I must put you away.

I don’t want my body to continue to degrade,
My organs to eventually fail.
I don’t want to die spiritually. I want to feel myself again.
I am tired of being numb.
Please, God, give me the strength to overcome this.

The dead and wilted flowers play
Alone inside a dried up vase,
The shocking dance, a sad display.
The happy memories displace
Dried up petals, a fine disgrace,
The dancing stems made up of rot,
Bowing down their balding face.
I look away and see it not.

The church’s walls, a whited gray,
They close in for a cold embrace.
The silent question cast away
Façade of truth, the tears retrace.
Is God alone? The Spirit’s grace,
The Savior of our souls is brought
To witness fellowship abase.
I look away and see it not.

A child, a boy in garish day,
His bony frame, his sunken face,
His skin is blackened in decay,
A ghostly smile that’s out of place.
No kindness shown toward his race,
No sympathy, no solace sought.
The love once felt he will erase.
I look away and see it not.

The boy child lost without a trace,
The flower dead, a new one bought,
The patrons of the church efface,
I look away and see it not.