“I stand in the shower and let the water pound against the knot in my neck until the spasm seems so strong I register pain before terror. Every possible nerve I can find rests against the jarring freeze of the granite. Water drenches my arms, face, and stretch-marked body – kissing parts of me I used to reserve for your masochistic ego.
I’m here. I’m right here.”
Trauma is something you feel. It’s something that crawls up your spine and demands acknowledgement. This is a quote from my most recent publication in Burning House Press: Translations of a Post-Apocalyptic Love.