Child of trauma (poem)

That's where it all began, a child of trauma uncertain of her place
trapped in the echoes of a pain that she couldn't face
and it all mattered in the end
all the wounds I couldn't comprehend

A checkered blue dress that I only wore once
became riddled with a shame that fear outruns
and my silence began to trap the hurt
like flies gathering around excrements and dirt

And all my tragedies coincide
with my tears of treason and the comfort that I was denied
That's where I wanted to hide
in my reluctance to deal with what I pushed aside

My fears exceed what I am fearing
my body conceals what I am wearing
Half here, half there, my hands don't feel like my own
am I still the child that never became fully grown

Stunted by a deep belief that I was someone else
man or woman, there's something other that compels
my journey to be a tragedy; back to square one
now stop and stare at my own deformed creation, but don't run

My mind split by agony, and I'm distorted to defy
everything that I never needed to rectify
and my denial is my release
shattering me, piece by piece

Cause that's where it all began
in the breaking of everything better than
a child of trauma who couldn't find her place
trapped in her pain that I now must face