Cloak Of Trauma Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Quality of being is at least instinctive in off-colored ways.
Bringing personalities into view, persuading the best interior motives to be brought into bearing.
Somnolent desires, awakening themselves with sounds of aromatic tastes.
Delving solidly, finding the many attributes of another who cannot find herself, yet harps on unexistent wonders of the mind.
Exercising self-stubbornness, causing herself a great deal of distress, because of what happened to her when young.
A very traumatized sixteen year old, grown now and seventy-six, still hiding inside the cloak of trauma, afraid to come out of it - afraid to discard it - afraid of losing the only self she's ever known.