Lilog224ever
This poem captures a raw, unfiltered morning of rage, reflection, and survival. From the moment I wake with fire in my chest, every breath and step carries tension, grief, and the weight of past trauma. I enter the church, voices echoing, interactions sharp, every gesture and word amplified by the storm inside me. Conversations, gifts, and intrusive questions collide with memories of panic and betrayal, sending tremors through my mind and body. I navigate moments of grace and moments of agitation, accepting sustenance, navigating social rituals, and confronting unhealed wounds. Amid the chaos, small moments-an apple, a bracelet, a ladybug-bring fleeting clarity and connection. Every detail of this morning is recorded: the tactile, the auditory, the emotional, the spiritual. Trembling, exhausted, and haunted by interactions, I retreat to my car, carrying the fire of the morning with me. This is a journey through rage, reflection, and survival, a testament to resilience, awareness, and the ongoing struggle to navigate a world that does not pause for pain.