Poems of Life

My Childhood Friend Trauma

Trauma, my oldest companion.
With me from the beginning.

A boy grown into a man, following my every footstep.
Haunting my shadows and living in my darkness.

A boy grown into a man into a lover.
He was there for me at 12 and 3 o'clock in the morning.

Saying hush love,
They will hurt you. They will lie to you. You cannot trust them.
Hush love, I will not hurt you, ever again. I will not lie to you, ever again. You can trust me and only me.

A boy grown into a man into an abuser.
Trauma introduces you to his friends. Always in tow. Depression and anxiety.
All three coax you on.
We will help you feel better. You can feel better if you just.. get rid of it all. Get rid of all the living your doing.

Trauma throws you around like a rag doll when you deside to not follow by his rules. He makes you remember. Makes me remember.

The 15 year old cousin in my grandmother's basement. The 20 something year old med student in the psych ward. And the 43 year old father figure in my own bedroom.

And Trauma whispers sweetly in your ear. "Let's play a little game. You like it dont you. Your my good little girl."

Trauma is the puppet master. He lifts me up by my string then makes me dance his tune.

But still. He stands by my side whispering sweet nothings in my ear.
"You deserved it. It was your fault. But I am here, love."

Trauma, my childhood friend. Your romance is addictive.
Toxic to my mind and body.
I am scarred, not just physically.
Our relationship is one of sorrow and strife.

And yet, I don't let you go.
I seek refuge in the light of others and you still live in my darkness. Still haunting my shadow and following my every footstep.

But someday soon. I will cut our ties.
Cut the string that bind me, to my childhood friend, Trauma.