Trauma

Trauma reaches outwards,

Collects my body as its own, 

And decorates me with tears and pain.

Trauma yearns to write.

Vomit flows from its mouth and onto the paper-

Poem after poem after poem 

Trauma won’t let me stop. 

It guides my hands across the paper until my wrist aches,

And whispers in my ear that I am not my own. 

I am unable to stop the stream of words that pour out of my mouth and pour out of my pen. 

And I’m stuck life this- hunched over with tears clouding my vision.

Trauma inspires me to write-

And I write and I write and I write and I write,

And I cannot stop. 

Trauma reaches outwards-

Collects my body as its own.

Says I am nothing without its words. 

And I am nothing without these words.