i cannot save her, only myself

Why aren’t things different? Better? Fixed? Why is it that when the rain starts, I am still falling down into the dark pits of past trauma? I don’t understand it, why I am still tormented so. I can still remember, physically, the touches that I did not agree to; the fear of making a sound; the emptiness.

hands on fire

I remember the ice, how it soothed her. She dipped her feet and hands into the frosty water, filled to the brim with pieces of frozen cubes, for it was the only relief she could find. The shaking and fever …

what my eyes will never unsee

I remember thinking, “That is the worst thing I have ever seen,”
and then you decide to prove me wrong
over and over again.
You one-up yourself,
and instead of relief,
you get thrown new horror every single day,
that is worst than the last.

oh, dear little sis

Your eyes burn my skin
they pierce my eyes, my soul,
as they plead for help that I cannot give

Why did you have to end up here, once again?
On that bed, on that stretcher,
hooked up to fifty IV’s that do nothing but remind us all
that you are one in a million.