The toxic energy all around me,
consumed my mind and body.
I wanted nothing more than to escape.
I never felt safe. I built this wall
before I could even tie my shoes.
The detrimental damage, it was being done to you.
Long before me.
. Long before her or him..
Long before them.
A cycle...
A traumatic cycle of abuse.
The pen and paper were all I had.
It is still my consistency when life gets bad.
Where was my biological dad?
Why was my grandmother so mad?
Why was my mother so sad?
All of the secrets and the lies.
The blood filled tears that I cried.
Every single night.
Wondering why things were not right..
My mind wonders today,
but I am older, wiser, and I think, I understand. Trauma has always been a cycle-
But I am here, ready to recycle.
-Danielle Kelley, E.E.G. Services
Ready to Recycle poem
Commentaires