Poetry Blogs (Living after trauma)

Where’s The Sun?

I used to orgasm imagining i was running to-

The sun.

To reach climax for the relief was spiritual

Sex for me has remained-

Emotional.

Now it’s perverse and sexual.

So, I hide inside-

The dark of the night

And only come out when the moon says

You’re safe now.

He has my best interests in his heart filled with craters

Other women scarred with play...

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A thin translucent veil

light forcing through

in fractured shafts,

the eyes adjust

to no avail

shedding shape’s

the mind can’t craft.

A swollen sponge 

to soak the sense

with pitching high tone squeal,

the ear adjusts

but cannot clear

that droning 

hum surreal.

Mouth of dirt

eyes of blood

clawing hands that plea,

dragging back to conscio...

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