Parked my car, woman In the next car, sobbing. I Want to comfort, can’t.
If my trauma response could speak, what would it say?It would say , “it’s not going to get better. It’s only going to get worse.
Grief and heartache wracks Your chest, deepest tensions are Loosed, new light enters.
By poetpas Life of a shower head
Overcome I amBuoyed up in a current ofMagnetism, I Tingle with its force.So much, I struggle to holdMy feet on the ground. Shuttles forward andBackward
After seven months of abstaining from alcohol, my wife and I toasted the harvest last night with a glass of champagne, a gift from our