Who would I be
without these layers of trauma?
What would I know
without being forced to beyond my comfort zone?
When would I see
without shining light from my depth?
Where would I go
without stepping forward in faith?
Why would I seek
without desire to understand?
How would I grow
without being rooted?
These layers bog me down
Let the horror play like movies
I carry these stories into the night
Real time
Past time
No time
Go time
Fight not flight
Stay awake to push aside the moments before sleep
so the world drifts so quickly your mind can't be sucked into
the time warp worm hole that is held in a field of memories.
Eyes heavy as stone
as heavy as grief
as heavy as lard.
What if I woke up as free as a child?
Not me as a child.
Me as my inner child, who existed before he touched me like a woman.
Did the first layer of trauma go undetected and remain hidden long enough to grow into something more scary? An unknown.
What about the next layer
or the next
Or the relationships that spiraled
into more drama and more trauma
and more drama and more...
trauma?
Putting the damage on.
How many layers is this onion?
I asked for garlic. Heart.
Leaves a bad taste in my mouth either way;
one that can be smelled from a mile away.
First way to know it is a good day?
Your breathing.
Your heart pumping.
Your sweat dripping.
Your energy buzzing.
You are breathing.
You are heart-pumping.
You are sweat-dripping.
You are energy-buzzing.
Buzz soft and slow, or loud and fast.
Bee yourself.
And what if yourself is still unknown? Even if you know why you exist and what you are made to do... even if some of the days you have most of the answers...
what then?
Buzz soft and slow, or loud and fast.
Bee yourself.
What else lurks underneath the layers of past trauma as emotive energy
as cultural recall
as current world wars
as neighbors under stress?
When the layers dissolve, what is left to shed?
Can we cast a shadow if our light and dark are balanced?
How far and wide can our shadow spread, if we are shining a light at a mirror?
without these layers of trauma?
What would I know
without being forced to beyond my comfort zone?
When would I see
without shining light from my depth?
Where would I go
without stepping forward in faith?
Why would I seek
without desire to understand?
How would I grow
without being rooted?
These layers bog me down
Let the horror play like movies
I carry these stories into the night
Real time
Past time
No time
Go time
Fight not flight
Stay awake to push aside the moments before sleep
so the world drifts so quickly your mind can't be sucked into
the time warp worm hole that is held in a field of memories.
Eyes heavy as stone
as heavy as grief
as heavy as lard.
What if I woke up as free as a child?
Not me as a child.
Me as my inner child, who existed before he touched me like a woman.
Did the first layer of trauma go undetected and remain hidden long enough to grow into something more scary? An unknown.
What about the next layer
or the next
Or the relationships that spiraled
into more drama and more trauma
and more drama and more...
trauma?
Putting the damage on.
How many layers is this onion?
I asked for garlic. Heart.
Leaves a bad taste in my mouth either way;
one that can be smelled from a mile away.
First way to know it is a good day?
Your breathing.
Your heart pumping.
Your sweat dripping.
Your energy buzzing.
You are breathing.
You are heart-pumping.
You are sweat-dripping.
You are energy-buzzing.
Buzz soft and slow, or loud and fast.
Bee yourself.
And what if yourself is still unknown? Even if you know why you exist and what you are made to do... even if some of the days you have most of the answers...
what then?
Buzz soft and slow, or loud and fast.
Bee yourself.
What else lurks underneath the layers of past trauma as emotive energy
as cultural recall
as current world wars
as neighbors under stress?
When the layers dissolve, what is left to shed?
Can we cast a shadow if our light and dark are balanced?
How far and wide can our shadow spread, if we are shining a light at a mirror?
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