Trauma Warding

Children of God in the youth psych ward

walking like the dead

lights in the windows too high to reach

black pits in your stomach where you swear your Soul used to be


the city lights seep into your heart

warm as Albuquerque in August

desert and pavement and gasoline


in the pure red light you looked like a Saint and Death

sunken eyes puking pills and stomach acid

floating unsettled with the hospital ghosts, Angels­

vessel strapped to the table

Heaven­sent nurses cascade through sterile blue corridors disappearing behind curtains


Seventeen years in the making

Trauma and Tears and Absolute Anxiety

flushing through veins surely as Divinity in a bleeding, breathing shell

This poem is about: 
My community
Our world
Guide that inspired this poem: 
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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