1 minute read
A Trauma Song / Elle Provolo
A Trauma Song
Elle Provolo
Advertisement
A way for me to hold my breath when swimming is
Too difficult to match the ocean’s fury.
Remembering my own name just so I could choke on my screams
As if the song of the waves didn’t erode the shore of my memory
Unlike the desert which has been scarred by my cyclical pacing over its terrain.
Maybe my mother will understand why I am afraid of the mountain’s shadows
And my father will begin to listen to the hum of the creek.
Salt lingers in the waters and my scars are bleeding again
Only if I knew the fish intimately would I know how to let go
None of my wounds can speak without whispering, I am a
Goner
