He said that I had grown old
Much older than before
He didn’t even recognize me
Standing at the door
He hadn’t even noticed me
Walking down the street
I said that’s what trauma does to to you
It unravels you at the least
He said maybe he’d age gracefully
I thought good luck with that
I’m heading home for a drink
At the table I once sat
sashaholden1 
Excellent!
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Thanks. This poem resonates with me. The fact people are only to quick to comment on your aesthetic appearance astounds me. Yet trauma and its effect on the human condition astounds me more so. We are strong resilient folk yet still vulnerable to being cut down at every turn. Thanks again for recognising this poem. Sasha xx
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