The incomprehensible

Impact of Trauma

I hear their stories in their sessions,

and I don’t forget.

I hear their pain,

Spoken and unspoken.

I see their tears shed 

And unshed.

I see the angst on their faces,

And in their uncertain smiles.

I feel the energy,

Heavy and oppressive.

I feel their questions,

Asked and unasked. 

I smell the hot coal on bodies,

And summertime tar.

I smell the battleground flesh,

And detonation. C-4?

I hear somber music,

gunshots, fireworks, and explosions.

I hear too much and

I hear nothing.