I

remember

feeling . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

remember

feeling

.

t

h

i

s

.

way

before . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

felt

.

t

h

i

s

.

way

before . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

w

h

e

n

–

–

–

I

.

f

e

l

l

.

beneath

.

t

h

e

.

floor . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

.

f

e

l

l

.

beneath

.

t

h

e

.

floor . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

screamed

behind

.

t

h

e

.

door . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

screamed

behind

.

t

h

e

.

door . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

could

.

n

o

t

.

rise

above

.

t

h

e

.

roar . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

could

.

n

o

t

.

rise

above

.

t

h

e

.

roar . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

s

o

–

–

–

I

continued

.

t

o

.

fight

.

t

h

e

.

war . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

continued

.

t

o

.

fight

.

t

h

e

.

war . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

now

I

stand

upon

–

–

a

distant

shore . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

stand

upon

–

–

a

distant

shore . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

far

away

.

f

r

o

m

.

the

blisters,

–

–

burns,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

blurs . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ far

away

.

f

r

o

m

.

the

whispered

words

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

hurts . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

arguing

.

f

o

r

.

less

than

.

m

y

.

worth . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

for

more

–

–

than

I

deserved . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ they

argued

.

f

o

r

.

less

than

.

m

y

.

worth . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

for

more

–

–

than

I

deserved . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

It

was

–

–

more

than

–

–

I

deserved . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

It

was

–

–

more

than

–

–

I

deserved . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

It

was

–

–

more

than

–

–

I

deserved . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

I

was

.

a

t

.

my

worst . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

remember

feeling . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

remember

feeling

.

t

h

i

s

.

way

before . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

felt

.

t

h

i

s

.

way

before . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

w

h

e

n

–

–

–

I

.

f

e

l

l

.

beneath

.

t

h

e

.

floor . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ when

.

 I

.

f

e

l

l

.

beneath

.

t

h

e

.

floor . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

screamed

behind

.

t

h

e

.

door.

Reflection: This was a personal struggle-themed poem largely reflective of an ongoing, internal struggle – from some kind of trauma that was experienced previously. It continues to resurface and the anxious sufferer senses another episode is on the way. Many people who have either experienced trauma or who have helped others in these regards will probably relate strongly to this poem.

I wrote most of this poem by listening to the wonderful, haunting gem of a song “No End to Love” by Orlando Weeks which I played in the background to create the “moodset” for the poem, and inspire the writing of the poem. So, if you listen to the song at low volume while reading this poem, you might better get the “feel” of it.