Childhood Trauma Poems - Poems about Childhood Trauma

Childhood Trauma That Creates a Serial Killer

A bedroom door that never locked,
Footsteps heavy like thunderclocks,
Mother's wine glass, cracked and red,
Words that bruised more than fists ever did.

A closet full of whispered screams,
Apologies lost in fevered dreams,
Father's belt, a sermon preached,
Love, a language never reached.

A dog buried in silence deep,
Secrets traded instead of sleep,
Schoolyard eyes like hunting knives,
Laughter echoing butchered lives.

The smell

A chain ended

At daggers drawn with no discharge in animosity 
Berated and mocked regardless of my actions or intentions 
Cant take much more, hell I'm 27
"Dont take it mate", bite that bullet
Everything i hoped, friendship, closeness
Fond memories few and far between 
Granted, i was not abused or physically neglected 
Had it all, school trips, gadgets, want for

I Was Friends With A Tree Once

It was a sugar maple.
Fairly average in size, a good
Number of branches, some 
Low enough to climb for a
Child like myself.

I was never very athletic,
Hated all sorts of sports,
But this tree, this one tree
I could climb.

I would scramble up her
Branches in spring after
School, and tell her all
About my day, in my head
Of course, because who
In

Love on the Dark Side

You senselessly hurt me,
     Then, demand I do not cry.

You frustrate me,
     Then, unsympathetically, punish my display of anger.

You ridicule me,
     Then, taunt me when I strive to win your approval.

You swear long-standing tribal love and protection,
     Then, crush

Maturity?

I've always been described as mature,
yet not many know I grew up too fast,
for trauma broke an innocent girl,
her innocence,
her happiness.

Beautiful Girls

I see the way your body dances through the halls of our home, how dirty you are. dirty little girl.
My teacher said this is not what we do. Mom tells me this is bad.
They’re wrong. Beautiful girls get lied to.
Dad tells me not to do these things.
This is because he does not love you. Beautiful

playground scars

Little Girl swings in the air,
legs pumping, wind in hair
the closest to flight she’ll ever be.
freedom and fairytales whisper in her ears,
telling her with each swing, she’ll be closer to the clouds.

Little Girl and Little Boy swing in the air,
legs pumping, wind in hair,
‘friends forever’ echo in their laughter.
their shadows chase after them in the

The number 2

Two houses is what I call home, with two kitchens and a bed in 2 places I roam, I walk the streets without knowing what’s  next, could it be the worst or maybe be the best, with arguments I hear and the stuff that I see, is everything hidden under an oak tree, with

Buried

So many earths to unearth....
worlds that define my history
like a geological time capsule;
you see,
I hid them from seas
of terror
in a world of fear.
I shoveled them down
for years,
until I forgot how they look like.
Sometimes I exhume them
for remembrance,
only to crowd my mind 
with unnecessary mess
all over again......

An Apology To All the Messed Up Kids

To all the kids that had it rough 
That when you were behind your home's walls, things got tough 
Hearing your parent's screams bounce off the walls.
Listening through the cracks, their spiteful words making you fall 


To all the kids that love the most 
Even though they weren't given an example at home 
Seeing shattered

Childhood Trauma In a Grown Man

Childhood trauma living inside of a grown man
Sorry if I seem shut off and don't want to hold hands
I understand if you don't want to stand next to me with my cold stance
But there's childhood trauma still living inside this grown man

Decade old wounds still bleeding with new ones on top
Feels like I'm on the

Childhood Trauma Signs

Substance or alcohol abuse,
Number one. 
   Joins a gang and carries a 
Gun.

   Makes bad decisions,
Impulsive.
   Appears nervous,
Often disruptive.

   Irresponsible with life
And finances.
   Takes a lot of risky
Chances.

   High emotions, no emotions,
No in-between.
   Always in trouble,
Can't get clean.

   Inability

Get Out

You live in my head 
Never paying a cent
I pray for the day you are evicted
 
And as much as I try to throw you out
You drowned me in your quicksand 
Pulling me under
So I can’t breathe 
Your way of reminding me 
That as badly as I may want it 
You’ll never leave

I squeeze my

Bark

Paper spiders everywhere 
Crawling through pinholes in my brain
Cutting the corners of my mouth
Tartaric taste curls my tongue 
Forming words I would never say

An inferno of verbs 
Flying through gutted roots
It’s warm butter to a blade
Until the right ones land and spread
That's when they begin to ricochet

     You’re only hurting yourself.

Childhood Trauma Strengthens Resolve

childhood trauma strengthened her resolve
heartfelt survivors instinct
perilously fearless

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