undigested chunks
of memory spew from
depths of unconscious
regurgitated masses
of bloodied solids
mingled with mush
too repulsed to touch
unable to fathom
what force-fed garbage
initiated mind vomit;
churning emotions
physical revulsion
dreams of childhood
mutilated, ravaged
innocence, fragmented
images soaked in blood,
cry for acknowledgment
cannot stop convulsions
maggots exploding
in my brain, sucking
my soul, threatening
darkness, I am falling
backwards, consumed,
frail state of control
lapsing in this cesspool
of filth, remembering
unimaginable abuses.
(Image: http://derekjones.deviantart.com/art/troubled-soul-437229975)
One Woman's Quest 
I can relate to your feelings in this post. Remembering past abuse feels exactly as you describe. Do you feel any better since you’ve written it out? I hope this was therapeutic and cathartic 💛
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