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SorellePoems
I never bled from a fist But I still wear the shape of violence Raised voices can bruise Silence can bruise The threat of eruption bruises Deepest of all My shoulders remember More than I do They rise before my mind can process Stiffening at the hint of Sharpness in a voice My jaw knows how to lock Before a word becomes weaponized My body rehearses defense Whether or not there’s a war Bruises don’t fade They redistribute Whispering in muscles Posture Carving themselves into instinct You don’t need hands To harm someone You need presence Volume A door slammed with enough force Can knock the air out of you Without ever touching your ribs Accusations cut sharper than Belt buckles matched with An equally sharp tone In the suffocating pressure of Someone else’s anger Tracing warnings into my skin There’s no doctor for that No ointment or polite language That makes it digestible You can’t ice the memory of a voice Breaking you down like it was Dismantling cheap furniture You can’t rest away the sensation of Your stomach seizing when someone Drops a shoe too loudly In another room
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Oct 10, 2025
Oct 10, 2025 at 5:02 PM UTC
Muscle Memory
I never bled from a fist But I still wear the shape of violence Raised voices can bruise Silence can bruise The threat of eruption bruises Deepest of all My shoulders remember More than I do They rise before my mind can process Stiffening at the hint of Sharpness in a voice My jaw knows how to lock Before a word becomes weaponized My body rehearses defense Whether or not there’s a war Bruises don’t fade They redistribute Whispering in muscles Posture Carving themselves into instinct You don’t need hands To harm someone You need presence Volume A door slammed with enough force Can knock the air out of you Without ever touching your ribs Accusations cut sharper than Belt buckles matched with An equally sharp tone In the suffocating pressure of Someone else’s anger Tracing warnings into my skin There’s no doctor for that No ointment or polite language That makes it digestible You can’t ice the memory of a voice Breaking you down like it was Dismantling cheap furniture You can’t rest away the sensation of Your stomach seizing when someone Drops a shoe too loudly In another room
The body keeps score Even when the conscious mind Tries to move on -Sorelle
#unspoken#trauma#raw#brutallyhonest#fear#bruise#warnings#musclememory
Written by
Sorelle
24/F
Oct 10, 2025
Oct 10, 2025 at 5:02 PM UTC
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