#traumapoetry
Just words
These are just words.
A storm in the distance
Advancing with rage
Escalating in time
Take the power away.
Just words.
High pitch shriek
Piercing ears
Traveling the connection
Between head and heart
These are just words
Spitting out the mouth
Tornados
Harmless breathe
Butterfly wings flap
Lethal turning.
Just words
Beauty that seems to fly
from angry hands
Beat the things
Only supernaturally touched
These are just words
Hurled in a corner
Knees to chest
Just words
Raging war
Settling scores
These are just words
Tearing like paper
Childhood taken
Just words
Target set to ****
Bullet bursting
These are just Words!
Rivers flowing
Shame imploding
Just words.
Regret for tomorrow
Can't take back what stains
These are just words
Memories flicker
Weight upon the shoulders
Just words
Empty,
lifeless
These are just words
Nothing that can come to cut the heart
To chain the soul.
Destroy the life.
Just words
Repeat,
repeat
These are just words.......
Sep 29, 2012
Sep 29, 2012 at 7:46 AM UTC
I am the girl
who learned early
that perfect houses
can hide jagged edges.
I am the child
who sat silent
while the world looked in
and called it safe.
I am the one
who remembers the smell
of thick white milk
that wasn’t meant for me,
but I drank anyway.
I am the girl
who fell off bikes
and was told
to stop crying.
I am the child
who thought she would never belong
until a second home
showed her love could be patient,
kind, and constant.
I am the one
who called two strangers
Mum and Dad
and learned
what family could feel like.
I am the woman
who carries those lessons
into motherhood.
I am the mum
who sees my children
for who they are,
who celebrates their victories,
who comforts their falls,
who holds them
when the world cannot.
I am the girl
who began small, scared, silent,
and became
the protector, the guide,
the heart that refuses to break
for those I love.
I am the proof
that even jagged beginnings
can shape
a whole, strong heart.
Mar 10
Mar 10, 2026 at 7:51 PM UTC
When they stood beside
my hospital bed
with quiet voices
and careful smiles,
they told me
I was going somewhere safe.
Somewhere
I could stay for a while.
I thought that meant
a family.
A place
where someone might finally want me.
My room
sat at the top of the stairs.
White sheets
pulled tight
like nothing messy
was allowed to exist.
Everything spotless.
Everything quiet.
Everything perfect.
I thought
if I behaved well enough
maybe they’d love me.
Six months passed
in that perfect house.
Six months
of learning
that a place can look like a family
without ever being one.
The day they took me away
I cried for the foster carer.
Even a house
that hurts you
still feels like something
when you’ve had nothing.
But that house
didn’t just take my hope.
It taught me something
much harder to unlearn.
That sometimes
the places meant to protect you
are simply better
at hiding the damage.
Mar 10
Mar 10, 2026 at 7:35 PM UTC
Oh, mother
when did I start mothering myself
because you couldn’t?
When did I learn
to wipe my own tears,
to soften my own voice,
to hold myself the way
I begged you to hold me?
Am I healing,
or am I only becoming
my own replacement?
Why do I hear your tone
in my anger,
your silence in my pauses,
your sharpness
when I speak without thinking?
Why do I hate myself
every time I sound like you?
Why am I terrified
that I am slowly turning
into the thing that broke me?
Did I believe I could change you
just by loving harder,
by being quieter,
by being better?
Did I think if I survived enough,
you would soften?
Why did no one tell me
that daughters are not meant
to save their mothers?
Why did I carry hope
like it was my responsibility?
Why does it still hurt
to admit
that love was not enough?
Oh, mother
if I am learning to mother myself,
is that healing
or proof
that no one came?
And if no one could save you,
why did it have to be me
who learned the cost?
Jan 22
Jan 22, 2026 at 12:59 AM UTC
_"are you contemplating? did you observe enough?
have you surveyed them all?
have you scanned me, inspected my wounds, and scrutinized me whole?
did you see—view the noisy entities that lie around me?
thanks and regards, i hope i helped you with your study."_
_would you go ahead and just cry, baby?
i told you before—i've been poisoned a lot._
snakes, ghosts, waning moon in the shadows—
breathing slow, i gasp for more.
someone plays on the drums; the night feels alive.
my skin thrums—there's something under it tonight.
i've traced paths, points on a corkboard,
placed tags along as i go,
walking in the direction that leads back to the very center.
traps—traps—oh, so many.
they’ve set me up too many times—
i wonder if even they found it uncanny.
like a spider's web—intricate, yet messy—
it knows what it’s doing,
yet sometimes makes unsolicited errors
in the repeated counting,
as does the world around me.
long in motion, trapped, all of it a lie—
a plot, so humongously tried.
something about the way they speak,
how the smile almost always means the same thing,
how it reaches the eyes that carry a darkness so queer.
truth has always been one breath away—
i took that one—gasped, coughed, choked it out,
watched the mask slip.
they didn’t fall—i did.
viewers from the third eye, melancholic stillness in their sight,
piece by piece, watched me crash.
saw me bury the upturned corpses of all that i’d had,
crestfallen under the weight of secrets—
too many, too layered, too loud to ignore.
never meant to carry, never meant to become
merely the pawn, the bug stuck in the web—
yet desolated, they stained it mad.
there’s blood on me—
not theirs, but my own.
as i rasp out to repeat:
withered flowers still had the same old thorns,
as if sharpened by hand—like a dagger against stone.
you don’t realize how much it *****
when you have to pretend the lie doesn’t hurt.
and when the lie is you—all of you—
it’s like smiling a wisp away from the hug of death.
perchance, if anything’s left,
add it here. leave it be.
the texts, the calls, the hidden clues play on—
_you dare cheat?_
leering through the red trees,
the sparks of the stars that once whispered memories—
it’s so cold in this place, like being stuck in a maze.
every turn, a version of you exists,
one that i didn’t know how to name.
i’ve met enough to barely remember how to count—
or which number i’d reached.
no escape clauses here, just sounds of glass shattering.
trust is what lies on the ground beneath your feet.
i’ve seen the graveyard where all my hope lies,
sleeping since forever—
it’s been quite a while.
maybe the betrayal isn’t always the worst part—
maybe it’s the quiet.
the silence of watching the lies be watered,
brought up into flowers.
ones with thorns—
the thorns that ***** the same hand which had sown
the seeds—
it always comes back in a loop.
and i promise it’ll come back to hit you.
i’ve been poisoned enough to know
when it’s mere liquor,
or when it’s laced with sweeter wine—
the one that carries all the enzymes
needed to make me curl up,
squeeze the inside of my guts,
choke out my heart,
watch it be torn through
by hands that resemble claws.
you’re like an eagle—
beady-eyed and grinning.
they’ve said love comes with a price,
that bonds need no ice.
this setup, alas, was stitched with rot.
i walked into it willingly.
though i wasn’t the only pawn—
unknowingly so.
_check the board again, my love—
who all stand? who made the rules?_
i store it in a vessel—
the tragedy i have become.
you didn’t follow all the runes.
all you need to know,
even as you watch my corpse fall:
poison has come to know its own.
and despite all—you were all that i needed as an antidote,
to stop the black that visibly spreads through my veins.
you and i watch it reach up to my eyes—
one last glance.
the board shall remember:
_i'll take your name._
_you._
Jun 7, 2025
Jun 7, 2025 at 4:21 PM UTC
You
Took an oath not to do harm
Yes you harmed and damaged me
You think you feel good
When this broken crayon
Cant cooler anymore
For what you did to me
In the autopsy room
Aug 9, 2019
Aug 9, 2019 at 7:59 PM UTC