It feels as if I have walked into a car wash. The weight of the water hugs me through my clothes. A windy force races around me pulling me side to side. It scares me. It hugs me. Worries me. Overwhelms me.
Then it stops.
And it is just me.
YOU ARE READING
Hold my Hand
PoetryMy goal is to share what I wish I knew about trauma and healing in order to make your journey less confusing. I have to begin by telling you that there are no magic words or wisdom to make the pain of trauma disappear. There is only you and your com...
