The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, and the lights were strung around the tree. Oh, how they twinkled.

There is an unraveling of sorts when the mind, and the body, undergo intense suffering. 

A lostness… 

Trauma, a multi faceted word, takes on a life of its own in the shadows of the night. 

I would declare it to the world, if I could. But mostly I declare it and sing it over myself. As a reminder. As wise words should be declared.