Childhood Trauma

Memories

like a drippy faucet

memories trickle down

from my brain to my chest

to my hips

to my…

I can try to tighten the pipes

to conserve the memories

as anyone would do with water.

then I could use somewhere else like a badass conservationist

but like water-

my memories slip down the drain

and I'm not even sure they're worthy of saving.

perhaps I could retrieve them

if I venture deeper down the pipes

And sift through the sewage

slippery sludge

I lose my footing and now

I'm completely submerged

under all the shit that is my past…

my trauma.

I am on with them now.

no longer a separate entity

grasping for answers that might make it make sense.

make me make sense.

weighed down.

I went too far down.

and now I'm stuck

of course, I could ignore the leak. let the memories trickle in and out as they may. and hope it doesn't cause a mold overgrowth.

maybe I could put a bowl under the faucet

to catch the droplets

then I could store it away for future use.

return to it when I need to glimpse a reflection of a former self.

so that I can look in the mirror and see that the girl in the faint smell of mildew bowl isn't me

well, not all me.

a part of me

a whisper

a droplet

really, just a trickling of the me I am today.

separate from the past and what has happened.

unlike the bowl, I'm not sure how to catch the memories.

they drip so fast.

and I am not a bowl.

I have more rough edges

if anything, I am more of a sponge

either always dry or always drowned.

but that's neither here nor there

the point is…

what do I do about the goddamn leak?

Light in the dark

I'd have to pass the bedroom where he'd lie

in order to get to the bathroom.

so I'd try my best to hold it in

because I was scared he'd see me.

"come lay with me"

A dark room with a monster inside

and a black hole of memory that was what?

stolen? captured? in hiding?

To protect me?

I'd see him in his tidey wideys

his big belly summoned my disgust

but not more than when he looked at me

or said my name

or demanded I sit on his lap

or touched my thigh.

can I go back into hiding now?

sneak down the hallway to avoid those eyes?

can the black hole envelope every surviving blip?

cause it's too much

to know.

to not know.

either way, I'm sick and

dizzy

And yet, I can't escape the feeling

that he took something that wasn't his to take.

Because my inner child is screaming

And I can’t not hear her

and I can't neglect her anymore.

That's all I've ever done

Everything she had to do to survive

all they've ever done to validate themselves.

But if I shine some light down into that cavern of thought

will I meet my inner child

or discover she died long ago?

Little One:

I feel the lump in my throat

and the pulse in my chest.

thump. thump. thump thump thump.

nothing but a distant speckled thought

and a feeling.

what happened to me?

my fingers are tingly now-

as if I've been frozen- removed from the freezer and left out to thaw.

soon there will be a soft, squishy, flesh drowning in a puddle.

put me back.

"No. Stay with me!"

a shout in the form of a muffled mumble.

the faint whisper of one who learned to be invisible but always longed to hear,

"you matter to me"

I know now who this voice belongs to

I take a step closer but she backs away into the shadows. She doesn't trust me and I understand why.

I pushed her away long ago in order to shove down the darkest bits of my hurt.

and we avoid hurt don't we?

we sleep.

to ourselves.

to escape.

but I never meant to fall asleep to her.

and it's only now. after all this time, I can hear the lullaby of her voice as it awakens me.

I'm thawing.

As I come to, I'm in awe of her resilience. She never slept. She watched over me while I did. But...

I'm awake now.

and I've missed so much.

but I won't fall asleep and leave her to face the dark alone again.

and maybe one day,

she'll let me see her.

and I can hold her while she finally rests.

you matter to me, little one.