childhood trauma (Remove filter)

A Strange Repetition

I have been here before,

and yet it is a strange repetition:

this not going out;

this hording of food and handwash.

And then there are some familiar foes.

No use insisting on social distancing,

I am already caught betwixt twin sisters:

Vigilance and Anxiety.

 

Spanish Flu? Or Swine Flu?

Please, God, not Ebola?

No, none of the above.

This pandemic provision,

c...

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Pandemicchildhood traumaLife and Deathsocial distancingshame

Burn

I’m not a pyromaniac, but my emotions are like a fire.
Not dealing with past trauma because I don’t have what that would require.
So when I find myself alone and fighting the darkness in my head,
I end up saying so many things I wish were never said.

And as I look around at all the bridges that I’ve burned,
I know that by now, I really should have learned.
And as the smoke clears and my la...

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depressionself harmfrustrationex friendstraumachildhood trauma

My Mum's Lover

A house,

a staircase

it was an accident

you hit me

with your words

it's my home I say

but you don’t care

you have come in

again

soon you will leave

but not me, her

I find my bedroom

solace and silence

the smallness of me

you have come again

I do not want you

you are not mine, hers

you smother me,

press me into bedsheets

you smell of bull swe...

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childhood traumaabusesurvivalhopelessness

The Green Gate

 

The green gate creaks.

Her socks one up - one down.

It squeaks as she swings.

She sings as it squeaks.

Happy for once as she plays.

 

The path is wrapped in lavender.

It always smells so nice.

Don't touch, she will know.

The pebbles fear to move,

Brave leaves sleep on the path. 

 

Curler lady comes smiling, kind.

Her sweeping brush is old,

Maybe her m...

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childhood trauma

HOW LOW CAN YOU GET?

weak ankles took me to a clinic

in the nineteen fifties.

Mum worrying enough for us both

low chairs for kids

alice in wonderland

long stinking corridors

the grim reaper in white coat

sun shining through crittall windows

brave new world.

 

I couldn't speak for fear

they surrounded me like interrogators

that was the nineteen fifties

sixty years later

an oste...

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mental anguishchildhood traumaparental neurosesblack humour

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