Love Trauma
Trauma kills. With each killing of lives, the next one becomes exponentially more cherished. But like the cat with nine, it doesn’t make us dead.
Trauma, the disease that tortures inevitably. The disease that can’t be cured, but treated. The disease that teaches the heart of the path to death.
All people are not equal. Trauma wears different masks, different faces to be seen by the people with minds as different as the costumes of trauma.
Trauma, the true teacher of love. The teacher unafraid to teach life without a candy coating. Like a good teacher, trauma’s lessons stay in the memories until our last days. And like many great teachers, trauma is easily misunderstood. It is the unforgiving teacher of love, but also a teacher of hate.
We are the students of trauma, the creators of the soul. From our birth, the creation of us, trauma begins to watch, unbiased. Trauma is the teacher that can make great people, or destroy great people. To trauma, we are all born the same, and we all die the same. The earlier it strikes, the more powerful the lesson, more unforgiving to the soul of the newly born. To trauma, its teachings are just as worthy for the child as they are for the adult.
To those who’s parents have been killed by trauma, you are the ones who are taught to love and raise yourself independently.
To those who’ve been betrayed, forgotten and abandoned by trauma, you are the ones taught to rely on yourself the most.
To those whom trauma frightens, you are the ones who are taught to be brave and to anticipate.
Trauma knows not where you are from or where you will be, it only knows what it is capable of. Trauma knows not of an easy world, but of a land that kills, destroys and scares. Trauma hides nothing and trauma is honest. Trauma cares not who you are, but who you can be.
