Poetry

your trauma is valid even if,

you cannot remember it properly.

your trauma is valid even if,

it has been years since it has happened.

your trauma is valid even if,

I’m sorry I got that question wrong.

I’m sorry I can't move on.

I’m sorry I'm not smarter.

I’m sorry I couldn't be stronger.

I’m sorry how I take on as much as I can

Sometimes I look into the reflection and see the little boy with forest green eyes 

begging the world to end so he wouldn’t feel anymore. 

But then I see an old cripple 

every little star in the dusky night sky,

has a story that collects together.

i hold the stars in my hands,

and count them one by one,

watching the stories unravel.

some stars poke me and leave scars,

I'm falling into the deep end,

That dark place that floods me

Over and over till I'm drowning

And I just float, float, float.

 Home is where the heart finds rest, 
 A place where dreams and memories nest. 
 In walls of love, in every glance, 
 We find the comfort, and soul's dance. 

Mountains made of icy sand, 

The sun peers down onto the land. 

A mirror casted upon the ground, 

As winter silences every sound. 

Whispers so cruel flood the news,

Filling many hearts with fear. 

Some listen to only what they want to hear. 

Their denial leaves a black and blue bruise. 

Blind the jury. Blind the voters. 

Wrap white fabric over their eyes, stuff white cotton in their ears. Make them as blind and deaf as Justice herself. 

like shifting shadows moving across walls and space

I constantly reflect everything and everyone

daydreamers like to envision a new world

one where every cog in the machine does its job

we get tired of being the mirror

I go to therapy and dish it all out

Everything that's too personal to tell my sister,

Everything that's too serious to tell my Mother,

I dish it all out

This morning I woke up

to find my phone hadn't charged last night,

so I plugged it in while I stumbled through my morning routine

and picked it up right before I hurriedly left the scene.