The Day I Died
That’s the day my heart stopped beating
An my mind went into a state of shock
Shocking me into a continuous feeling of numbness
I don’t remember my son’s funeral
Couldn’t even tell you who came
I sat in the car as they lowered his body
Knowing I would never hear him call my name
I’m tormented by the promises I made but did not fulfill
White keys
Black notes
I delayed teaching and sharing my greatest gift with my son
Thinking I had enough time since he was still young
I hear the haunting sounds of procrastination playing gracefully to the tune of Chopin
I’ve tried to start teaching
But the weights of guilt and regret
Entangle my fingers that contain
The melodic coloring of my heart is
Black and blue swirls creating a calming peace like waves
I gave life my everything
In return I stand alone
I once stood in the ocean begging the ripples to pull me away
Changed my mind at the thought of ruining ppls day
It’s like standing on the train tracks unable to move as the train lights illuminate my face and I prepare for impact
It’s like standing at the end of a gun begging life to pull the trigger
It’s like being held down underwater
Not even fighting to come up for air
I've learned they call this symptoms of trauma
Isolation is comforting
I try confronting the root of the pain
But my brain conveniently navigates and journeys between memory lane and Concentration
Shorting out everything in between
My brain feels disconnected from my body
I smile one minute then cry the next
Barely getting enough rest
I can't remember if I had something to eat
I'm no longer hungry
I eat for survival
All I want to do is go to sleep
But all the noises won't let me think
Let me think
I wish a drink could ease the pain
I waste time trying to keep sane
Trying to read the words on the page
But nothing makes sense
There's an eerie silence as I try to connect what my eyes see from the vocabulary to the meaning
My heart starts beating out of my chest
My head is still a mess
No activity
Limited signs of life
My minds been sliced
Between the woman I used to be
An the one that’s taken over me
Too many unfamiliar traits
Uninvited emotions
Deafening mistakes
Definitely hate to love this being who hates being in this life with no direction
Inject me with life
So I can see my own potential
Running through my veins
Drain the stain of incomplete
Cause I am complete in God
He sees my every move
Saw me contemplating between the fall off a bridge or the hit of a car
Contemplating if the physical pain would mask the stain of my heart
He holds me while it feels like im spiraling down
Sends people my way to ensure I don’t drown
His value in me I could never explain
Trusting his love and his faith to sustain
An break the chains of disdain
Reflection & Context
This poetic piece captures the inner landscape of acute grief and trauma — the moment when loss is so overwhelming that the mind and body enter a state of shock. It speaks to the experience of emotional numbness, memory gaps, anxiety, and the sense of being divided between who one was before and who one becomes after tragedy.
Through vivid metaphor and spiritual honesty, the poem reveals what many trauma survivors quietly endure: the struggle to concentrate, the exhaustion that comes from simply existing, and the way the nervous system attempts to protect itself by disconnecting from sensation and time. Yet woven into this silence is the presence of God — not as a distant concept, but as a sustaining force that holds, intervenes, and preserves life when the heart feels unable to carry itself.
This piece stands as a testimony to survival, to the reality that even when the soul feels suspended between life and loss, breath is still being given, and love is still actively at work. It is a reflection on how divine presence meets human fragility, and how healing often begins not with answers, but with being held through the darkest seasons.
Reflection Prompt
Have you ever experienced a season where your mind or heart felt disconnected, as though you were simply trying to make it through each day rather than fully live it?
What helped you continue breathing, hoping, or staying when you could not yet see how healing would come?
Lips and Poetry
This piece was originally performed as part of the Lips & Poetry series, where spoken word meets lived experience. Watch the original recording below to hear the rhythm, breath, and emotion that first carried these words.