Aftermath

Tidal wave of pain

comes without warning,

sweeping away the details

of daily life. Leaving

only core structures,

and even those damaged

and shaky.

I look around the devastation,

seeing pieces of my life, still there,

but tangled, twisted.

I dazedly pull mangled habits,

relationships, responsibilities

from the rubble. Kneeling

in this mess. Trying to

re-create a life, a sense

of self from the

aftermath.

I organize one small area, and

think "Ok - I can do this."

Only to raise my head and

see debris for miles around.

Slinking heaviness pulling

me down, numb thinking

twisting my efforts.

Some days

just being here feels like an

accomplishment. But not one to

be excited for.

Simply that it is done, that I'm

still here.

The ache in this chest, the

desire to breathe freely again.

the nagging fear of yet another

wave.

And so I seek solid ground:

the knowing

that the earthquakes that

set these waves in motion

were not of my making.

Doubts, anxieties, anger,

sadness washing over my life

again and again are

merely a delayed

response to grinding

forces acting on fault lines

in another time,

another place.

That all this time

I've been living in the

aftermath of someone

else's dysfunction.

Healing comes as I

find safety in higher

ground. Stability in

new structures I build

with my own two hands.

I am no longer at the

mercy of these waves.

They will not

devastate me again.