Process

Who would have thought that 4:30 AM would be calling my name,

awakening me from a sleep filled with visions of a bloody horror lying unconscious on the floor.

Who would have thought that tears would flow freely at the memory of what happened a while back, but what seems like two minutes past.

Who would have thought that I’d have little progress on processing a horrific reality that is mine, stumbling through the time it takes to “get over it” and “move on.”

I am still on the floor, cleaning up the blood,

I am still drying tears and clearing up the flood.

I am still processing, and that’s okay.

I am only human, and today is another day.