Once again I am trapped. There is no escape. The trauma may be over, But the panic shows persistence Like damage Long after the storm is gone. Every benign zephyr Feels like a tornadic threat, And in this collapsed home, I am trapped.
I don’t know what to say. Disorganized thoughts. Auditory hallucinations. Paranoid delusions. It’s all still there. It’s hidden, But they pop out from Time to time. Say “hey, we’re still Here to Hurt you.” They say “listen, We still have Control.” “We’ll still pierce Your Soul.” Please leave me Alone. I’ll say “it’s really No big deal;” I’ll think “someone Help me heal.”
There is a war going on inside me. It looks like lions attacking each other, It feels like being electrocuted And set on fire in the same seconds. Sometimes there is a lull in the war-- A break in the battles-- An eerie nothingness. Everything is numb. I have yet to process the trauma. I have no feelings, other than A precarious curiosity of when the next perilous battle is, And of who will win, Or if there even will be a victor. Will the lions ever tire?