Trauma is a dreaded guest,
The one who never leaves.
Even when he is gone,
A trail of destruction remains.
Vomit veils the sink, don’t touch it.
Glass glitters among the eggshells,
Take care where you step.
Even with the door flung open
He may not have gone.
Once you’ve checked your feet for cuts
You hear the booming on the walls.
A fist pounds for every drop of drink,
A slap for every lonely day.
Feral growls track hours through the night
Keeping feral time.
There is only peace when he sleeps.
But that is never promised.
You can run, drive, fly away
But all roads lead back to him,
Always, he is there when you land.
With this revelation
Your lungs tighten with Anxiety,
The snake that coils around them.
Your heart sinks into quicksand.
Sliding down, down.
A grain for every lie
Every bottle
Every insult screamed.
Slowly they all fill your lungs
Like a tragic hourglass.
Fighting and clawing does no good.
The air is getting thinner.
Your final thought is to wish him dead,
Despite always being the better person,
It kills you to be at his level
Where he alone is the winner.
With a sharp cry you jump awake.
Clutching your chest,
Basted in sweat.
The horror slowly fades
As reality illuminates your room.
A note on your desk reminds you
“He’s been dead for five years.”
Most mornings begin this way.
Dawn only brings the next
Round in this twisted game.
A knock at the door
Sends jolts running down your spine.
The ring of a text message
Signals anxious, shallow breathing.
He is gone from this life.
But he left you trauma as a parting gift.
A family heirloom, it cannot be returned.
It will always be there
Burrowing in your bones,
Living in your very nerves.
