Sleep torments me
in these trauma hours
of self-loathing
deep in the night
when the mind won’t be silent.
Madness whispers
of an end to all
and my heart wails
a siren’s song.
Whispers call seductively.

The blackness fades.
Night segues to dawn.
As my eyes dry,
daylight seeps in.
Crossing the horizon blue,
light and birdsong
take me one step
back from sorrow,
from the self-hate
of those darkest trauma hours

© 09 November 2021, by D. Denise Dianaty

Author, D. Denise Dianaty


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