Trauma Bonding

We go to bury the wounds and
are buried with them, so
when someone comes along with
a shiny new shovel and
offers to lend a hand,
what else can we do but
work the mud and worms through our teeth
in a mad, desperate rush to thank them?
What else can we do when
the light is shut out,
the world closes in,
and the wounds throb anew?

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