The Daily Trauma

I long to cover my face
block out
the headlines
that scream
gnaw at my gut
sicken me
I long to blot out
the images of horror
humanity inflicts
upon humanity
on the daily
now burned onto
the inside of my eyelids
that leave my
pulse racing
palms itching
implications exploding
across sensitive neurons
wonder idly at what point
my ability to be shocked
will finally be lost
crumpled newspapers
in my hand
I stand at a crossroad
of becoming an ostrich
head buried deep
in the sand
and finding my courage
to smooth the pages
that ink my hands
with ugly truth

© 2019 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All Rights Reserved

5 thoughts on “The Daily Trauma

  1. Newspaper sits unread
    Its details and pictures unneeded
    To know the horrors already reported
    When the news is a battering abuse
    Because the abusers make all the headlines.


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