Trauma Train 🚂

This is a work of pure fiction.

"It’s the mirror of the mind — Bloodstained blind dark past behind"

Trauma Train 🚂

// poetry

Perhaps, my emotions weren’t mirrored as a child,

Perhaps, it was an untrustworthy number I dialed,

There was no one to turn to, mentally defiled,

For every emotional sprint teary-eyed, I ran a mile.

There was a lot of withholding of affection,

A rhapsody of conditional love, trauma bonded infection,

Spiral bound emotions with leaks and cracks,

Crossroads had me risk it all at the intersection.

Unsafe, I can't sleep in that demonic house,

Sadistically built fantasizing the infinitesimal miniscule growth of a mouse,

The afflatus- a cavernous lucid sprightly castle of dreams,

Unto death I shall not settle for scraps - Torn shirt & torn blouse.

I was cast away shunned & unloved when I lost,

Compulsively, it got me ecstatically addicted to winning,

In excruciating pain, winning a euphoric euphemism, potent shot of morphine mixed with ecstasy,

In a callous-hearted house of pugnacious dotards where losing meant mortally sinning.

Even when you win - apparently you did something “devilsque”, “grotesque” to get there

Evil! evil! they sledge, allege, “it’s the sinister devil’s flair”!

While losing - They mock you till you snatch the gold medal

When you win, they smear your face with shoes - mortification stair

(What do you really want, dimwits?)

Formative, through adolescence in the spikes of my years,

Peak contraction I conceived trust issues, emotional un-regulation & intimate fears,

Expression was a a transgression, as a baby - never hugged or placated - "love was hate",

My new Noxious Pleasure: Shutting people down and slapping them around seemed like sanity, it seemed great.

I can't meet the grandiose expectations of that house of madness,

Bereft of logic, smear campaigners, superfluous with alcohol, phony pious prayers bad news far from gladness;

It's too much & never enough, disloyalty, avarice, underworld & bribes in their walls,

Conspiratorial backstabbers deficient of goodness, rife with badness.

It’s the mirror of the mind —

Bloodstained blind dark past behind,

Wrestling elusive shadowy figures,

Drudgery begotten, within a swamp of melancholy I find.

Trauma wormed it’s way in through my genes,

Consolidating rail roads directing triggering “obscenes”,

Behind the spectacle frames my soulless eyes,

My life force fed on by familiar demons while no one intervenes.

A murky sadistic gaslighting theatrical,

Asymmetrical spasmodic heart rate,

For every “different” thought ravished,

Every odd ball quirk they obliterate.

Literary traumatic engine my playbook,

Tragicomic monologue a choir master with a wand,

In duplicitous ways multiplied the compartments,

Honking Trauma Train; obstinate hard glue — a vampiric bond.

Upon careful consideration my vain confrontation

Expression incredulously the train projects onto me all “its” signature sins,

Shoved me back in the underground subway, Trauma Train

Bolted me in and stomped on the lid…

Blithely they slit the jugular of my soul,

Dilapidated my inner child, I feigned a smile 🙂

In these deep shadowy hot pursuits,

Inner-child cell phone has not one speed dial…

Nemesis Fast Train expediently skipped the stations of gratifying elation,

Contrarian, callously augmented my shadow, berated my vision,

Through a lineage demons travel hubris murderous, insidious,

In my soul a rodent, a fatal puncture wound, an exemplar incision.

A nudge from my eyes

I’ve forgotten how to sob,

All I see are internal shadows enmeshed,

Predecessors avaricious bastardised intimacy, web cob.

I took a decision, Trauma Train creatively exorcised, extraneous, extricated,

Exiled this genetic transgenerational traversing “Pattern Train”,

In deep fortitude I relinquish melancholic DNA,

Forward Thinking — “No Trauma Track bequeaths No Trauma Train.”

Climax:

I fuse obtuse rhymes a creative cruise,

Like the subduing hook on the train’s noose,

Channel & transmogrify abuse into an artefact,

Expeditiously in creative growth curves, inner child ballistic let loose.

I’m finally sane!!!!

Without arch-nemesis Trauma Bane,

In vehement “Fight, Flight and Ferocity”,

Eternally derailed that demented Snakey Trauma Train.

---

"Eternally derailed that demented Snakey Trauma Train."

Disclaimer

The ultimate work to be done is within.

To relinquish the trans-generational baneful & sabotaging "Trauma Train", you must jockey your ever-racing neighing horse of a mind who’s seeking to make everything inconsequential a draining traumatic obstacle race.

In some exceptional cases, you must cut off individuals who’ve crossed the threshold of abusive behaviour, but most times you must dedicate your ounces of energy to shadow work, assessment of your inner world, encumber your emotional reactions, nurturing your inner child and limit exposure to triggers when necessary.

Look to induce an afflatus — inspired art, an objective of love perhaps, start a family, catalyze your inner will to set sail to start a new enterprise, transfix your soulful resources to pursue a purpose grandiose, meritorious & timeless.

Hot wire the dead emotional engine, benighted & infected by dark forces of your shadow / “inner-demons”, do this on loop & get ready to fly.

Before you know it you’ll be a source of light, shadowless & weightless, airborne.

Aim to paradoxically control the outcome by letting go. Don’t let the external seep into the internal, your eternal baseline must be equanimity.

Swerve through life unperturbed, un-triggered, un-mess-with-able, creatively musing, sublimely living.

"In my darkest nights, I had them dreams. Dreams in which I was only winning."

shadowless & weightless, airborne.