Bella Imperia: The things I don’t say

She comes with the slam of a door,
With sounds that I cannot ignore.
A drawer shuts hard, a sudden beat,
And fear comes rushing to my feet.

She arrives before I can think,
Before I steady at the brink.
Before I tell my heart, be still,
She rises fast against my will.

My pulse takes off, my breath turns wild,
I feel again the frightened child.
My eyes seek exits, scan the room,
As if old danger still has bloom.

I hate how fast she knows the way,
How quick she steals my peace today.
I hate how easily she came,
And left me trembling all the same.

I locked her in a chest of pain,
And swore she’d not break free again.
I hid her deep where none could see,
And threw the rusted lock and key.

But grief can shake what time has sealed,
And pry apart what never healed.
It cracks old wood and splits the seam,
Then floods my waking with a scream.

There I stand, both bruised and brave,
Half free and half a willing slave.
Half healed and half still trapped inside,
With all the tears I thought had dried.

Yet she is not my enemy,
She once was all that sheltered me.
She kept me safe the best she knew,
When darker days were all I knew.

So I will sit with her tonight,
And neither run nor start a fight.
I’ll let her rest, I’ll let her stay,
Until her storm has passed away.

For now she’s here, though not for long,
Tomorrow brings a softer song.
She’ll fade like dusk from skies above,
And I’ll return to who I love.

-Bella Imperia