A Place to Share

Haunting Memories
A crash.
the tortured scream of twisting metal,
the tinkle of breaking glass,
weightless, I seem to float,
gravity takes over,
hard ground.
A voice.
Sounds, fleeting, echoing inside my brain,
questions are asked, answers given,
white hot pain, cold blackness,
sickening movement,
forced sleep.
A dream.
Walking along a foggy street, all alone,
under the street lamp, an old man,
a hand raised, the way blocked,
"now is not your time",
turned away.
A scream.
Awakened from the sleep of healing,
twisting bars, rattling windows,
knowing nothing but need,
the white lady comes,
cool comfort.
A plan.
To walk, despite all other predictions,
I am determined to make my way,
through the doors of freedom,
laughing through the pain,
made it.

- Staticcharge