Triggers

trigger

a look

a particular sound

the way a sunbeam stretches

                      across a dusty floor

 

triggers

 

pictures tilted on their hooks

worn out shoes by the back door

a burning candle on a chipped dish

    sending ribbons of smoke into stale air

 

triggers

 

hands around my throat in a self-defense class

    hands gripping my wrist

        hands twisting my arms

 

triggers

 

except these hands were mine

I was not the victim in this scenario

                    not this time

 

still

 

it brought me back to a place I had forgotten

to a place I thought I’d left behind

to a person I thought no longer existed

                    I had buried her

 

Once broken, always broken

                I guess

 

that must explain why I’m here alone

 

trembling

wishing I had a bottle of whiskey

 

to make these feelings disappear

 

damn triggers



photo: Pixabay

 

prompts: hannahbanana18, #NaPoWriMo



10 thoughts on “Triggers

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