The Sunday Poet: Kristie Connolly

Kristie Connolly

Kristie Connolly lives in Shirley, Massachusetts. She is a 2002 graduate of the North Bennet Street Preservation Carpentry Program School and is self employed as a preservation carpenter. She enjoys writing poetry as a creative outlet.

 PTSD 

We all have our wounds

Things that have ripped us apart

Scars that at first scream, I am hurt!

Then silently become just part of us. 

We know what they are from

Every day we know

If the wound would just stop there

If it would just let our minds rest

But it doesn't

It burrows painful passageways into our brain

Changing us

Demanding we must visit it

Because it is our thoughts now

There is always a new experience

But now it is an experience and the wound pouring over everything

Never just the experience anymore

And so now we are this and also that. 

We are divided and weighted down

Every decision, every joy tempered and every sorrow magnified, it lives with us as us. 

The only way out is to look for the love, feed the love and learn from it.

It is a long spiraled and layered journey but

If we leave it to fester we will surely die.