Some memories feel third person, like the memories of childhood trauma. Like the body was there but the narrator stepped out of the room. This poem moves through the strange, disjointed grammar of survival, where identity thins, fragments, and slowly rebuilds back into a voice strong enough to stand inside its own sentence.
Posts tagged healing
Non-Personhood |
Memories of a Child Raised in a Blind Spot
I was an invisible child, shaped by abuse and neglect. I learned to disappear, to protect my sisters, and to survive a household that couldn’t give me what I needed. This is my story of anger, memory, and reclaiming the self I was taught not to have.