Grief ... Trauma!!

I just can’t stand cars pass by me.

I can’t walk between cars parked.

I can’t cross the roads.

I cant walk the streets alone.

Tears drop marking the way I walk.

May be a sniffer dog can sniff me up. Oh! Who cares!

Is it this me that stands tall at times?

Is it me who just collapses at the sight of a white car trying to pass by me?

Can I really stand or fly?

Is it that I am thrown up in the air by fondling hands?

That no longer waits to hold.

Am I feather lite drifting across a crowd getting blown and lifted at their mercy?

Do roots grow down my feet when I stand alone?

Why does my foot seem so heavy that I cannot lift?

Why cannot I drift when there is no one to blow me away?
Why cannot I skip those ……… thoughts?

All the blood cells would die and get replaced.
All the skin cells would drop off and get replaced.
But the trauma turns out into a blue print that remains.
Now it’s a genetic disorder.

From the dairies of a trauma hauted victim trying to rehabitate.....