And after years of crying out, crying to no avail, Finally someone may come after so many you have failed, And when they come you are confused, for you’ve come to expect Naught but pure destruction, abuse, and sure neglect   There is cognitive dissonance whenever someone’s nice, Whenever someone’s kind to you or makes a sacrifice And though you inconvenience them, you know they do not hate, They do not look upon you as something that obligates   After years and years of misery, and in the present even still Most people clearly don’t love you and you know they never will, But one or two acts of kindness, they come as a surprise Can someone else truly love you? Can you trust they’re really kind?   The baby doesn’t ask for much, his brain’s fundamentally changed, He hoards his food and shrinks from touch, expecting only pain Though he has someone who now loves him and wants to make it right It will take years to heal him of the neglect of his early lif

 Babies who are neglected, left lying in their crib Crying out for help that they’re never going to get Eventually go silent, and from there they cease to cry Realizing there won’t ever be help for them in the night   Children who misbehave because they’re not sure what to say, Who want adults to help them, though they do not know the way To explain what their life is like or how it really hurts, Or to believe it’s even possible for something better to occur   Eventually stop caring, these children’s hearts become like ice, For they know that no one will rescue them or teach them to be nice, Giving up on any connection or a loving, helping hand, They look out only for themselves; everyone else be damned   Adults who reach out to others, telling them how their actions hurt, Who set boundaries and ask for people to stop treating them like dirt And get told that they are selfish for asking that their needs be met, They don’t deserve consideration and th

 I wish that I could see you and everything you are, That I could look upon your face and honor your beautiful heart, I wish that I could know you, and that we could connect, But all of this will have to wait until we have faces again   I want you to know I want you and I don’t think you’re a risk, I see you as a human being worthy of connecting with, I wish that we could smile and see each others’ expressions, But all of this will have to wait until we have faces again   The news shares faceless numbers and makes terrible projections, But every number has a face, a human attached to it, And each individual matters, should be seen and loved for who he is, But all of this will have to wait until we have faces again   Terror is running rampant across society, They take control of others because they fear a disease Choosing to offer some protection and some to sacrifice, Acting with great hypocrisy because they fear their own demise   Instead of see

 Transitions are so hard after trauma, Your body, already on hypervigilance from all that you’ve endured Takes the change as a sign that, once again, You are about to suffer and lose everything you hold dear, One small change in routine Can end up a nightmare As your body kicks you into flight or flight mode And the transition becomes a trigger   You try to stay afloat, Telling yourself that everything will be okay and that after the transition will come some sense of stability, You rehearse to yourself what it will be like after the transition, Remind yourself that you’re not really losing everything, Things are just changing, You think that if your mind has a stable place to land, your body will follow, But this year even if that were the case, There is no stability in front of you, And it’s not like that’s the case anyway, Because it takes a long time to teach your body that it is safe After it is has been through so much suffering   At the

 Triggers are extreme reactions to snapshots of disaster you’ve lived through before, As if you’re walking through a dense jungle, It’s a long journey, and you are Enjoying the scenery of the exotic plants and the beauty of nature, Feeling the intense humidity of the air around you, Hearing the chirping of cicadas from the trees and the calling of strange birds, And smelling the sweet, pure scent of jasmine on the breeze, When suddenly the branches part in front of you and you are a witness to a massacre, Your eyes behold countless dead bodies, gore, terror, And then Somebody starts shooting at you, Your body kicks into survival mode, And you have to run run run run run   You survive, But barely, And your entire being is now aware That you almost died, And how fragile your life really is. It is now imprinted into the wiring of your brain And into every single cell of your body   Also imprinted is everything that led up to that moment of the m