August 5, 2022.
Eyes that wander but legs frozen with fear
Had seen death more than once
And grieved till he ran out of tears
I tell Sara, my therapist, that I resulted to blind hate
Just to stay alive - and there are days I am so far removed
From that image of an innocent child
Who woke up and chose not to heal but to easily bruise
But in truth, they still pop their intrusive thoughts
Into my head and tell me that no one is to be trusted
And that everyone leaves through their own choice or a heavy death
Revenge and chaos still intrude my mind, but I now refuse to give in
I remember that child picking out the outfit
My mother would wear in her casket and being told
The autopsy was too intrusive for such a thing
I cried that night telling my mother we had the same wounds
A cut open chest, a void
Childhood was only yesterday
Used to carry behind me a soft blanket that tripped my feet
Now just a grudge that was mistaken for maturity
I missed a lot- and I try to separate myself from them
So I can empathize and be that child’s much needed friend
I get the urge to shake their shoulders all the time
Wake them from the curse that had ate at their life
Poetry by aidan haskel
Read 221 times
Written on 2022-08-06 at 03:09
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children are resilient
Never seen a child with that much resilienceEyes that wander but legs frozen with fear
Had seen death more than once
And grieved till he ran out of tears
I tell Sara, my therapist, that I resulted to blind hate
Just to stay alive - and there are days I am so far removed
From that image of an innocent child
Who woke up and chose not to heal but to easily bruise
But in truth, they still pop their intrusive thoughts
Into my head and tell me that no one is to be trusted
And that everyone leaves through their own choice or a heavy death
Revenge and chaos still intrude my mind, but I now refuse to give in
I remember that child picking out the outfit
My mother would wear in her casket and being told
The autopsy was too intrusive for such a thing
I cried that night telling my mother we had the same wounds
A cut open chest, a void
Childhood was only yesterday
Used to carry behind me a soft blanket that tripped my feet
Now just a grudge that was mistaken for maturity
I missed a lot- and I try to separate myself from them
So I can empathize and be that child’s much needed friend
I get the urge to shake their shoulders all the time
Wake them from the curse that had ate at their life
Poetry by aidan haskel
Read 221 times
Written on 2022-08-06 at 03:09
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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