Just because I’m not there
It doesn’t mean I don’t care.
You see
The child in me is too much to bear.
The world lifts melodies
For triggered memories
Made aware,
Of a child that died
In that forbidden lair.



Filed under absence, child, death, letting go, memories, poem, poetry, ptsd, repression

2 responses to “Child

  1. songtothesirens

    Whoa! I “died” when I was a few months past my 16th birthday. It has taken nearly 3 decades to acknowledge that, and to begin to allow myself to begin to heal. I still won’t talk about what happened which I suppose is impeding the healing process. I am too afraid to hear what the child needs to say.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. It’s tough. And I was blind to the fact that past trauma has made me as sick as I am today. Now it’s all making me very uncomfortable. Physical symptoms like nausea and emotional like anxiety and dissociation. It sucks but if I continue on as I have been without confrontation I know I will surely die.


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