When the Past Comes Rushing in

"When the Past Comes Rushing In"

It comes like a storm, unseen, unplanned,

A whisper that turns into sinking quicksand.

The walls collapse, the air turns thin,

I lose myself—I’m there, not here.

A look, a word, a sound so small,

Yet suddenly, I’m ten feet tall

Or five, or three—I do not know,

The past has dragged me down below.

I freeze, I fold, I fight, I flee,

Yet nothing here is harming me.

Still, my heart pounds like it did back then—

My body trapped in ghosts again.

But now, I know, I see the sign,

This fear is old, but I am mine.

The world around me hasn’t changed,

Only echoes call my name.

I breathe—I ground—I touch the floor,

I whisper, “This is now, no more.”

I hold the child that cries inside,

“You are safe,” I say with pride.

Step by step, I break the chain,

I name the hurt, I soothe the pain.

The past may knock, but it won’t stay—

I take my power back today.

This poem captures the experience of emotional flashbacks and the steps to manage them—awareness, grounding, self-soothing, and reclaiming the present.