The knot in my stomach
is far too easy to tie,
I don’t know if it’s because
I’ve grown overly-sensitive,
Or if I’ve become so harshly
allergic to my feelings,
But anything is enough
to bring me to my knees,
A string of words laced
in specific pattern,
Or a series of music notes
arranged just so,
They bring back my past,
Loss, and abuse
grief, and anger,
They bring back
words meant to
knock me down,
And hits meant to ****.
Every time it’s the same,
The same ache coursing
through my veins,
The same jerky
shake of my hands,
The same way I recoil
from my own body in disgust.