Trauma Poems - Poems about Trauma

I miss my mom. I don’t remember much about her, It’s been over a decade and a half since I last saw her, Before she faded into The person she’s become now. But I remember when she was kind, I remember when she loved us, I miss my mom. I miss swingset rides, Her pushing me, Higher and higher, Into the sky. Snapshots, memories, A blink of her smile, I...

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We Didn’t Just Merge Frequencies (Poem Type: Lyric or Free Verse) ? Verse 1 – Spoken, low & deliberate We didn’t just merge frequencies — we remade constellations, spat in the face of fate, then redrew the sky with bleeding hands and crooked halos. We changed the story mid-sentence. Ripped pages out of history and set them on fire — just to feel the warmth of our own mythology. ? Chorus...

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Touch me where I do not tremble. Make of me a scent without a name. Let sound become what breath once was before it learned to speak. Let the tongue forget its hunger. Listen to me with the skin of thought. I seek no salvation, only time that vibrates beneath the skin. ...

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"It was your dress," they replied Was it? The ripped fabric cried The 5-year-old's laughter silenced that day Couldn't even scream, "I'm just a child," and ran away "It was your shorts," they claimed Was it? The torn seams proclaimed The 10-year-old's dreams shattered, flamed Couldn't even cry, "I'm just a girl," with shame "It was your clothes," they blamed Was it? The cloth...

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"It was your dress," they replied Was it? The ripped fabric cried The 5-year-old's laughter silenced that day Couldn't even scream, "I'm just a child," and ran away "It was your shorts," they claimed Was it? The torn seams proclaimed The 10-year-old's dreams shattered, flamed Couldn't even cry, "I'm just a girl," with shame "It was your clothes," they blamed Was it? The cloth...

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Every picture I’ve seen of you as a child, You wear your hair in plaits. A stern middle parting and two dark brown braids Falling down on each shoulder. A maypole’s dream. You would do your best to wash them when you could, When shampoo was available, Or even in the single, small bathroom. You would vigorously scrub your face too With...

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Her inability to love. Love like bitter sweet honey, Humming to the song of her heart, One she has long forgotten the lyrics. A reminisced feeling of sealed Déjà vu. And she struggles. At sight of change, Freedom of her own mind. Inability broken. She is afraid. A violent ringing in her ears. Her hearts song screams As she...

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When grief became a shadow It felt as if nothing else mattered Like a sudden darkness Raining down upon us Like sucking the light from our eyes Like a wound opened multiple times It follows you like a stalker Creepily walking behind you Keeping an eye on your every moment And when you think you outsmarted it When you take a deep breath...

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We both jumped off a cliff, I fell You flew We both went for a dip, You swam I sank to darker hues Each night my dreams play On replay These similar troublesome tales Yet the day brings the light Which reflects the words I only dare believe From your eyes And the rhythm of your heart Beats several strides slower Just so...

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She wouldn't let the guilt warp her mind into believing its perception of her She knew who she was And she was is a girl who's been deeply hurt She knew deep down no one was coming to save her That she would have to see herself Hear herself And listen to her self The pain ached It felt...

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I broke away not so long ago, But there are things I want you to know. I survived, yes, but I’m not yet healed— A healthy life still unrevealed. I wake each day often with a start, Worry and wariness still haunt my heart. Pains of the skin are all long gone, But the uncertainty still breathes on. Starting my day, I follow...

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Diagnosis:stage 4 silence Treatment:a kinder world (one where racism doesn't exist) Cure:unknown Lifespan:1-5 years, if that Symptoms: ? a silenced voice ? being black ? loss of control over body autonomy ? racism ? microaggressions ? discrimination ? stolen childhood ? stolen innocence The cancerous silence had spread through her body She had tried to tell the doctors and nurses They called her dramatic With...

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I do not know if I fear you, thank you, or hate you for hanging round. I fear I'd been somebody else who stands on solid ground. I thank you, cause you made me this, but I hate the reasons why. I fear it might just free my soul when you finally say goodbye. I hate you...

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My Trauma Wears Crocs My trauma wears Crocs— bright yellow, with stickers peeling off. It doesn’t care how serious you want life to look. It clomps into therapy, kicks its feet, asks if there’s snacks. It’s loud at the wrong time, laughs when I’m crying, sits beside me on the floor and says, “We’re not going anywhere, are we?” I thought healing would wear silk. Turns out,...

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I remember the night he tore me from light, From the home of a friend to the jaws of the night. A grip like a vice, no mercy, no grace, My head in a whirl, blood drained from my face. He cursed as he dragged me by handfuls of hair, Shoved me toward steel with a murderous glare. He swore...

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