The Trauma

March 28, 2021

I’ve thought of ways I could have avoided it

It won’t stop the guilt or the flashbacks

I think it’was my fault cos’ I didn’t break a bone

Oh, maybe if I did I wouldn’t mind....

Maybe the guilts would reduce,

and the flashbacks wouldn’t matter

And so, I ask myself questions like:

Why didn’t I take another route

What if I went earlier or delayed for a bit

Why am I the villain & the victim,

Do all of this matter?

He was drunk, not minding

And he swore to death to take him

as he rode on his motorcycle,

So I was told.

I should never have been his victim!

And so I feel the world is crumbling on me

Like I’m carrying a mountain on my shoulder,

crossing a Dead Sea on a journey of no return

And though I wish I could change all of this,

But sorry I’m stuck in here to face & fight my demons

This is my earnest prayer,

That I may snap out of this really quick.

For I conquered death!

Something wrong with this poem?

Replies are closed for this poem.

If you or someone you know is struggling, you are not alone.

988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline — call or text 988, 24/7. Crisis Text Line — text HELLO to 741741.

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

Comments are closed for this poem.