A poem on living with trauma and mental health on bad days.
Whispers are haunting,
Settling in your mind like dust balls.
Every single word you said,
Lingering and becoming a pitfall.
I wish I could laugh,
But no I cannot.
You silenced my voice with stitches.
Sitting in mud, eating the dirt,
Your words leave me stuck in the trenches.
Oh, climb! They say, out of this muck,
It really is not that easy.
When every day you feel stuck,
Nothing but freedom craving.
Alas, it is your mind,
You can’t escape it.
The best you can do is tame it.
So come beats, and sit by me;
I will comfort you.
For together we are one,
We are stuck,
That’s okay, let’s keep each other company.
Authors note
Bad days, bad weeks, and bad months will always happen. The negative self-talk that we experience is probably something you know too. No matter how far you run from your past, it will be there waiting. In our experience, it is better to deal with the trauma and face it.
It may take years to face your demons, but the point is not to give up on life. No matter the darkest day, there is something good to counter it. At least that is what we remind ourselves of on bad days.
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