Trauma Unit

Like a recovering amnesiac
I get vivid flashbacks:

Triggers
Like a shot to the head

I feel:

Like a survivor
In a burn unit
That much more hesitant
To light fires

Afraid

You stand afraid.

 

Afraid to lose

But even more

Afraid to win

 

Afraid to fall

And afraid to stand

We made poetry

Some people make love
Some people make do
But you and me
We made poetry

Careful

Careful
How you handle that heart
That bleeding, breaking thing
As strong as it is
It is fragile in your hand
In the hand entrusted to cradle it
Care it
Carry it

I give you my heart

Bleeding

Beating

Bloody and bruised

Floating

Floating on the surface

Afraid to penetrate

That outer layer

And get deep down

in the the nitty gritty of it all

idiot tings <- ure title :)

Cooties <- my title :)

I hate how you make me smile
When I’m mad at you
How you make me laugh
When I want to scream
And how you can change my mood
So easily

Conflicted. Progress. Process.

Conflicted

twisted

contorted

and bent

Chin Up Soldier

The expectations weigh heavy

Knees buckle

As inner demons chuckle

Telling you lies
And covering your eyes

To the incredible potential of you

Prizefight

“He’s mine!”
She screams
Feathers all ruffled
Posturing for a cockfight
Between hens
Who’d be much better off
As friends
Over a overhyped prize
Too chicken
To turn down any passing
Breast and thighs