emptiness
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Deep Depression, Trauma, and the Memories You Think We “Forgot”There’s a quiet kind of grief that doesn’t get talked about much—the kind where you start losing pieces of your own life, and no one around you even notices. From the outside, it looks small. Someone forgets a conversation. Misses details. Can’t recall a moment that… Read more
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I.In the hollow of your laughterthe walls trembled with a warmth that now shivers in the absence,each echo a splinter,each silence a weight I am unable to offsetII.You both were my compasses, the nurturing hands, the love, the life, the lighthouse in each storms. now with each breath only the sounds of ghosts whispering of… Read more
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Year number 11 is here as I cradle a card,the embossed letters,faded, empty frames without your faces,smiling ghosts,haunting my thoughts Tied by barbed wire to a post, a single rose wilts, it’s secrets and memories I’ll never share, for people now are too dense to truly grasp love and joy Today in my heart beneath… Read more
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you’ve never been thereyou’ve never held each memoryI wear my scars like scratches, scuffs, and swirling spoons striking my body ,faded edges, chipped rim you don’t see the way I gather pieces of myself from the floor, as a reminderof the ones who slipped through my hands like tiny grains of sand loneliness is a… Read more
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How do you write, why do you write; I was asked, and so with the weight of the room upon me and in a fragile breath I replied: Affective empathy,partial hyper empathy,I taste the salt of sorrow along with the sweet ache of absence,each word a single cord, becoming either a noose or a safety… Read more
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Taking a normal pair of eyeglasses out of their case, putting them back in, then even slowly pulling them out; it’s much like the emotions of abuse The case represents shelter and safety, while removing the glasses means stepping into a world where it once was destroyed but in truth they can be useful, helping… Read more
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the life clock ticks moment by moment an agonizing reminder of loss; faith slipping through my fingers like dust washed from gold by hydrogen cyanide My forgotten prayers all blurred, my guts are wrenched pleading for resurrection from the death I call life, and the light that never comes Outside, the horror of east coast… Read more
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Below are common C-PTSD markers, especially as they appear after long-term narcissistic or relational abuse. 1. Emotional DysregulationDifficulty returning to baseline after stress.Sudden anger, irritation, or rage (often followed by shame)Emotional numbness or shutdownFeeling “too much” or “nothing at all”Overwhelm from relatively small triggers 2. Persistent HypervigilanceThe nervous system stays in threat mode.Constant scanning for… Read more
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In the sanctuary’s stillness hymns flow gracefully ,each note a question:what does it mean to believe when the heart is a closed door, and silence fills the spaces? Memories are fractured, like a child’s drawing of a house with sunshine in the corner with the sky gray which holds no promise as I write the… Read more
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once again the kettle whistles, once a loud demand, now only a dull complaint; which is all that fills this hollow space as a reminder—even the simplest things can turn bitter gazing across the pasture I trees standing like military sentinels but they know nothing of the weight that grows heavier each minute daily I… Read more
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My tears fall like a dropped coin,tinkling, and twirling to rest; a reminder of absence,the sounds of what was, and what will never be I sit with my grief, no longer my parents deaths, but new demons to face wrapped in heavy webbing Outside, friends lives continue, their new family arrivals or other joy and… Read more
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I do not fear any door closing, nor the weight of absence that settles over empty fields as sunflowers bow alive in stillness and silence For over 10 years I have courted chaos, and her friend loss took my hand, as to steal me away then Death saw me and smiled for he is an… Read more
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Inside my rib cage lies a grave marked with 6 names and on the ground surrounding it are the remnants of a boy lost in memories and dreams,starved of life, breath fading; lost beneath what could have been This boy, that I the old man am, are one in the same: He often does not… Read more
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Christmas is upon me yet again:ten years have passed,the calendars pages turn month by month ,but I remain as a mere “X” with no lateral motion each shadow a story with my permanent companions pain, anger,loss ; these are true friendsI carry the weightof a thousand whispers daily and hundreds of thousands of emotions firing… Read more
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Today is another day where I am Schrödinger’s cat sitting in the box along with uncertainty, which stems from the weight of possibility that I am both alive and dead simultaneously Hourly I am pinned between the what if, and the never was,a silent empty chair across from me the uninvited guest,the taste of stale… Read more
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In the colored lights glowing in December,the the scent of pine in wreaths and trees here I sit sifting through boxes of memories Shining, sparkling ornaments like ghosts,hanging heavy and each a fragment of laughter,a whisper now muffled,lost between carols and the weight of absence I remember the way they used to smile,how their laughter… Read more
The Quill of Samantha Grace Newcastle 