Poem on red background with white text reads as follows: The toddler in my chest Having a tantrum again Pudgy infant hands desperately tugging With the strength of feral weeds growing through concrete slabs Caged lions have had weaker bites Innocent fingers snapping cold bones Knowing that decaying ribs and tar soaked lungs function only as a prison cell Until they become a hearse With your head on my chest You can hear the fervent cry of my little sister The screams and hollow aches of child bones groaning and shrieking Twisting and grinding Reaching out Wanting to grow Trying to figure out the capacity of her own voice The boundaries of my own body Fleshy tendrils rusting metal Haunted melodic echo canaries in a cave

Trauma tantrum is my recent poem
Wrote it whilst thinking about the ache of loneliness that sits in my chest and how badly I wish I could protect my siblings from the same feelings.

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