Trans Diagnostic Construct
A single thread, frayed by the wind,
Woven from sorrow, soaked in rain,
Trauma, a shadow that won’t rescind,
A silent ache, a voiceless pain.
In fractured glass, I see the sky,
Its jagged edge cuts through my eyes,
And though I reach, though I may try,
The light I feel slips far away.
Madness sings in cryptic tone,
A hymn of loss, a cry of dust,
It pulls me close, I’m not alone—
But even in this, I cannot trust.
For who am I beneath the weight
Of labels, wounds, the mind’s despair?
A body rocked, an altered state,
A voice that trembles I am here.
Yet still I search, though I am torn—
For truth in chaos, to be reborn.
Copyright ©
James Mclain
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