A New Understanding of Trauma

threetrauma

Trauma. The word lands heavy, evoking thoughts of a fragile mind subjected to extreme instances of devastation, violence, brutality, and depravity.

Googling the word itself yields this definition: “A deeply distressing or disturbing experience.” It goes on to offer a tangible example in a sentence: “A personal trauma, like the death of a child.”

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Do You Mind?

The mind that for
I can only fathom a guess
over two decades has been
for whatever ill-conceived reason
protected from harm and damage
inside a skull,
behind eyes,
atop a body,
whose digits drum incessantly
in intrusively noisy percussion
on the hard and hollow table-top,
is a mind that seems to me
allergic to stillness,
averse to silence,
absent of concern,
regard, or courtesy.
This mind,
this horrible and annoying mind,
may it enjoy its time
being met with kind smiles
and polite laughter for now
and may it at last and for good
meet its reckoning.
I curse you, O chatterbox.
I curse you, and hope
both your thumbs shrivel into toes
and eventually drop from your hands
into the mud
where they are consumed,
digested as seed-pods
and grow into enormous beanstalks
which yields nary a bean,
ever.

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Back on Earth

highway94

~Part Five~

“Hello,” you say.

A moment, then the man calls back. “Are you all right?”

You think about the question. Are you all right? Are you? The query confounds you. You look down at your hands, as thought they might be holding some answer.

Before you can say anything in response, “Do you wanna lift?” asks the man by the truck.

He is asking if I need help, you finally decide.

“No, thank you,” you say. You aren’t exactly sure what the expression means, but you say it. It feels like the correct way to answer.