Trauma is a vicious beast.
Always lurking in the shadows. Stalking it's prey, it watches and waits for signs of weakness.
It's icy glare pierces the soul and binds a heart up with fear. Insidious. Tenacious. Compassionless.
The younger the prey, the stronger the predators unrelenting grasp.
Trauma is a constant companion, a comforting seductress that lures and possesses according her fickle will, a puppet master who pulls the strings, moving her marionette in a contorted dance.
It tells a tragic tale.
Like a scratch in a song it replays rejection, loss, and fear.
A story that words cannot retell, but rather weaving it's image like mismatched thread through an entire tapestry.
A branding iron that scorched it's disfiguring mark into every neuron and cell.
Removing the black thread so tightly woven is meticulous work.
An aggrivating, and impossible task.
Some wounds will forever leave their mark.
Trauma is a beast,
but this momma is a bear.
Trauma is relentless,
but so is redemption.