Tea About Trauma

Tornado blew through my mind, ripping doors off hinges

Easy does it conversation triggered by HIS name

Aloe vera, even it couldn't soothe a deeper than skin burn

Accessing boxed up memories, pulling the ribbon

Blessed the child, daughter of the same name, saved me

One night, when I slept, evil crept, standing over me with a knife

Up in the middle of the night, she saw him; she told me the next day

Three, she was only three, something a three-year-old should never see

Trusted father, my lover- his plot interrupted by her screams

Rattled awake, her bathroom break, his words, none, just a head shake

Another dawn, off to work, he went; starting my day, I made our bed

Uptick to upswing; blade found under his pillow prompted child's story

"Mama, he was pointing it down, pointing it down"

Against the wall, I slide and fall, every time my psyche allows the recall

***

Author's note- my poem is based on a real event, one I've tried to write about, but it's still very difficult. The father of my youngest two children dared the unthinkable, and our daughter saved me. I packed this away for years until a conversation triggered the trauma. While still haunted, I have coping skills- but sometimes, it's still too much.