Trauma is made and bestowed on us like the curse it is how we deal with it makes us, us Trauma can be more than words and actions A broken person may not always want to pick up the pieces image by scratch
All my life I’ve been a backup, quiet and small, Hoping to be needed, waiting for a call. While others shared laughter, stories filled with cheer, I sat on the sidelines, filled with doubt and fear. They played at their sleepovers, games that brought delight, I wished for a sickness to grant me a night. I’d leap to the chance, like a dog in the yard, Just hoping to hear that I might play the part. I smiled through the actions, let them use my heart, Unknowing the cost of always playing smart. For standing up for me felt too risky, too bold, I let them decide how my life would unfold. But then one day, I snapped, enough was enough, I sought out new friendships, but it turned out quite rough. They came in like sunshine, sweet whispers of trust, Yet soon turned to shadows, to betrayals unjust. Rumors spread like wildfire, whispers behind, The once-warm embraces now felt cold and unkind. How quickly they twisted the story I told, Turning me into a villain, cast out into the cold. I battled the heartache, the stabs of disdain, For choosing to step forth had led only to pain. I thought I could build, a community bright, Instead, I found darkness, a long, lonesome night. But still in the silence, I gather my strength, Reflect on the journey, and measure the length. For I am not villain nor puppet on strings, I am learning my worth, embracing my wings. No longer a backup, no longer confined, I’ll forge my own path, I’ll be true and aligned. With each step I take, I’ll reclaim what is mine, For within the deep hurt, a new heart can shine.
