Trauma

Just trying to live and be strong,

To move through and move on,

To smell the roses and feel the sun,

To be normal again, to stop feeling so done.

I enjoy the moments that each day brings,

the smell of warm coffee,

the rays of sunlight streaming in.

I work through the trauma,

I work through the pain,

I wonder when I start to feel ok again.

Sometimes the days are really easy and fun,

Sometimes the days are just good and not even glum,

Sometimes I feel absolutely grand, I feel happy, content, like the world is my friend.

Other days I want to curl up in a ball,

Or become an ostrich and put my head in a hole,

Other days I want to scream or shout,

Shout at the sea or even at myself, or the bus driver, or the traffic warden,

To anyone really, it doesn’t matter who, just to feel something, to let it all out in a way that isn’t you.

I want to move on, I have lots of plans, you see, waiting to begin.

So here I am, planning and doing, and writing notes, and lists of things I want to be achieving;

go to bed early,

wake up in good time,

go to the gym four times a week

and don’t drink caffeine after nine.

Be present,

Stop overthinking,

Live life for the moment,

I keep thinking about doing.

However, in the thoughts of it all, it all circles back round, to wanting this thing that I can’t have or comprehend yet, in the space that is you.