Trauma Poems - Poems about Trauma

In the darkness, a voice cries out, a shattering scream in the midnight hour. Trust turned to ash, shattered and raw, beneath the weight of an unwanted power. Hands that should heal become claws that tear, and silence grows louder in the air. A soul splintered, seeking the dawn— to rise again, though battered and worn....

Continue reading...

assessing regret trauma overcomes desires mind cannot forget despite what is thought a prelude to afterlife existence is not ...

Continue reading...

He doesn't answer when I scream Into the dark, into my pillow, Into the hollow between breaths Where prayers rot. Everyone says He listens. But maybe He doesn't listen to girls like me. Maybe I'm the mistake in the plan. The broken thread. The shadow on the altar. They told me He loves the brokenhearted, But He watched when it happened, He watched, and...

Continue reading...

O God of blistered stars and silence, I crawl to You with blood beneath my nails— Not theirs, my own. I tore at shame like bark from skin, But it rooted deeper still. Do You see me now? A cathedral of cracked marrow, Where hallelujahs rot before they bloom— I cannot pray without trembling. The night — I dare not name it — Stitched its...

Continue reading...

pulse()— //triggers beneath skin: jagged >> syntax.error: panic overflowed: line 21 { mind == burn; vision == glitched color; } >>>> crash report, rebooting… #cc0000 //devours what logic left behind...

Continue reading...

I sit and I wait Wait for your return Have I done enough My tummy starts to turn I don’t know when it will happen or why I want to stay but here is all I’ve wanted, since I’ve been away. I look for my home, but home is in the past. Now everything is broken,gone and I’m the last....

Continue reading...

Shadows cling and bite, A past that will not release, Wounds ache in the soul. ©bfa051725 ...

Continue reading...

I. The Hour of Approach The poem I was writing refused to end— it kept writing me. Blood didn't ink these lines— the ink bled me. Each stanza a hidden-hematoma across the white of nothingness. Somewhere, midnight faltered, and I was no longer alone. II. Visitation: Sylvia Plath Sivvy came barefoot, bees orbiting...

Continue reading...

I didn’t see the blast-- just felt it after, in the hush of your retreat. No scars to stitch, just words lodged in soft tissue. They ache when it rains. You said, "It's not like I hit you,” but silence detonates too. It tears in quiet, spreads slow as bruising thoughts. Now I walk crooked, smile with hesitation, and check every room for the pieces I’ve left behind....

Continue reading...

Why am I so different? Why does the world look at me as if I am broken and lost? Tragedy does not define me touched as a child now forced to wear the scars of my generational curse.Due to one man’s uncontrollable lust the world treats me as if though I am better off dead....

Continue reading...

I. Of Circuits and Litanies Somewhere between the limbic lobe and the ache of late-night Eucharist, you touched me— not in flesh but in the soft mutiny of neurons. They do not teach us that synapses pray in the tongue of longing, that oxytocin sings psalms in dim-lit corridors of the amygdala. Love is not a metaphor. It is a switch, a slow-burning heresy of selfhood dissolved in the damp...

Continue reading...

The sun closes her eyes, and I must close mine, this time, but my breaking blood-brain barrier bids otherwise. Another long night bodes foreboding in this light. Forbidden thoughts seep deep from blood to brain. I must fight, again, another tormenting night. Earth's most frightening repetitive cycle plays on repeat as I try to cycle through my backups to no avail,...

Continue reading...

In case I never write another poem again, here's what I've been thinking I've had a rough time wrestling with the rigid grooves inside my red hard, head - heading nowhere really, getting no place clearly, drearily coming to a head - where spine meets brain and runs its creviced terrain it spent too many hours of my life building. Beautiful though, isn't it? All of it...

Continue reading...

Radically erroneous monotheists have mistakenly substituted our co-infested co-operative co-invested co-empathic pantheistic HolySpirit's naturally healthy resonant EarthTribal bodhisattva powers of polyculturing communion love and peace for messianically monoculturing luster and loneliness unnaturally unhealthy irreligiously irritating dissonance degeneratively devilish and idolatrous and disrapturously ecocidal false-god demonic anthro-supremacist power Struggling to survive against Othered fundamentally erroneous monotheists....

Continue reading...

Memories of whip-lashing words steeped me deep into a roil of rancid oil my soul a weeping blistered sore my heart a gangrene amputee pus-green-memories rupture to plague me infection still oozes from core’s moaning cracks in a pale cringe I sniffled cold floor my confidant a split lip half-wit tamed by the maim of...

Continue reading...