Words don’t cut it
Anymore
So it’s back to the knives
Instead
I really thought
I was over this
But the trauma demon
Has to be fed
"All my life's buried here, heap earth upon it"
Words don’t cut it
Anymore
So it’s back to the knives
Instead
I really thought
I was over this
But the trauma demon
Has to be fed
Bind him up and to the pit be led.
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Hard to do, when he’s in your head
🖤🖤
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You say so much with so few words. Great writing 😀
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Thank you my friend.
You’re too kind 🖤
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You are very welcome 😁
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This is so true. You have written this beautifully 🙂
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Thank you my friend 🖤
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If you need anything, there’s a big group of us on here that’ll lend an ear.
That trauma demon can go sit on those knives.
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Thank you my friend.
That means a lot – honestly.
Bad days still come and go – and this was written on such a day.
Getting better now though 🖤🖤🖤
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Two steps back
you feel you’ll
never come back,
yet you always do.
💙🖤
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and we agree, don’t we Dauphy!💖❤
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Aww, thanks both!! 🖤🖤🖤
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You are welcome!
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Gets tiring after a while though.
But I know what you mean.
And thank you so much 🖤🖤🖤
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🤗💙🍹🐉
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🖤🍹🖤
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This hits home. Beautifully written ♥
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Thank you my friend 🖤
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You’re most welcome! ♥♥
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👍🖤
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Powerful heart-wrenching subject – so very relatable. ❤ If you need someone to confide in, there's a huge supportive community on here that'll help blunt those knives in what little ways they can.
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Indeed there is my friend.
My interactions with folks here – including yourself – have proven invaluable over time 👍
Just in case I never said – the somewhat ‘bleaker’ of my poems in this category are never posted in real time – so there’s no need for any immediate worry.
But your kind words do mean a lot, so thank you 🖤🖤🖤
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❤ ❤ ❤ Keep up the fight! As they say: 'Don't let the bastards grind you down.' *gentle hugs*
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🖤🖤🖤
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“One shall not die but live to declare the works of the Lord.” Although the knives give temporary relief, may one chose life every given time. May the sun always shine warm, the rain always bring romance, the snow bring magic.
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🖤🖤🖤
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