Poets logo


by D'Shan Berry 5 months ago in inspirational
Report Story

A poem about trauma's aftermath

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash


I used to stroke my grandma's face

When sitting by her side,

But, now, too often, simple touch

Can make me want to hide.

When I was small, someone betrayed

My innocence and trust;

Leaving me with jagged wounds:

Shiny outside, inside rust.

I wore the facade of "okayness"

Lying to me, most of all.

Robbed of a means of affection,

Fear led me to build up my walls.

There exists hope in my story.

Love patiently comes to heal me.

Slowly, we inch toward progress.

One day, I will rise — truly free.


About the author

D'Shan Berry

I love words. I love art. I love Jesus.

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights


There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2022 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.