The trauma said, ‘Don’t write these poems. Nobody wants to hear you cry about the grief inside your bones. - Andrea Gibson

I’ve spent half of my life not knowing the difference between killing myself and fighting back. What if I don’t want healing
as much as I want justice? What if I don’t care if justice looks exactly like revenge? Do you think I don’t know that I can’t want revenge without strapping the bomb to my own chest? That’s how the dominoes of trauma fall. You become just another thing about to detonate.

and I’m not the type to want to celebrate forever

when Right Now is forever walking down the aisle unnoticed.

Our hearts beat so loud the neighbours think we’re fucking, when I’m just trying to find the nerve to touch your face.