Writing became a perfect medium for me to define trauma in my own way. Oftentimes, I didn’t even know I was writing about trauma–just sharing a story or poem. Below provides worded images of self-healing, I believe…
Touch, I say, it will not hurt;
for now has come tomorrow.
Touch, I say, reach fingertips;
not fists so hard & hollow.
Touch, I say, don’t tremble so;
don’t hide down in the corner.
Touch, I say, oh, little one;
for I am not the horror.
Touch, I say, come on, reach out;
the nightmares go and sorrow,
will touch, I say, the hearts
of those around you.
Reach, hold tight, and don’t let go;
a hug is soon to follow.
Touch, I say, and you will find,
that now has come tomorrow.
Copyright 1999 Joyce Bowen
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