PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

The bruises hadn't formed cleary.
Not yet,
Unless you knew where to look.
Not a trace of the blows that rocked my world.

Everything felt so surreal afterwards.
That life would carry on:
It seemed a strange idea.
Resume your daily routines.
Walk the dog.
Feed the kids.
Make dinner.

I remember watching all the people pass me by.
Calmly.
Every step so tedioulsy planned.
I wanted to
Grab them.
Shake them,
and scream.
Don't you know?
Don't you care?

So quick to pretend it never happened.
Violent acts dismissed with a shurg.
The world pressed on.
Even while I was stuck in the moment.
Repeating.
A glitch in time.
Replaying the same memory over and over.
Did it ever really happen?