Triggered

Shaking,
the tone and volume of your words
trigger my deepest fears.

They’re not aimed at me,
but they still cut deep.

Trauma lives forever in my soul,
it’s part of what makes me whole.
And I can’t control the way I feel
when others break down around me.

The throwing,
pounding,
and yelling...

I want to run and hide.

I need a safe place
where I can climb inside
and get away from the torment—
it’s not mine.

Used and abused,
my core is filled with flight.

I’ll be alright,
but the temper of others
makes me want to escape.

Is this my fate?
To be left cowering
each time tempers flare?

I can only work on me,
and my reactions
to what I hear and see.

But my anxiety is set into high gear
whenever I hear those elevated words
spewed from someone’s mouth.

Cussing loudly.
My eardrums reverberate.

At that point,
it’s too late—

the panic attack has set in,
and now I am shaking again.

On the verge of tears...
a stream of all of my fears
rushing through my mind’s eye.

I wish this feeling would die.