Diving back into open wounds.
Many tears I try to hold back.
Like troops of wild, untamed raccoons,
The trauma goes on the attack.

Many tears I try to hold back,
For the shaking exists in lieu of saline.
The trauma goes on the attack
Wiping my sense of security clean.

For the shaking exists in lieu of saline.
The nerves have a mind of their very own.
Wiping my sense of security clean.
Smoke from nausea will be blown.

The nerves have a mind of their very own.
They bounce and frolic in manic bursts.
Smoke from nausea will be blown,
But I remind myself that the last shall be first.

They bounce and frolic in manic bursts.
Anxious and nervous and agitated.
But I remind myself that the last shall be first.
Healing is anticipated.

Anxious and nervous and agitated.
These feelings will most surely pass.
Healing is anticipated,
And then the first shall be last.

These feelings will most surely pass.
The fear of death will be a joke.
And then the first shall be last,
And I will retreat from that smoke.

The fear of death will be a joke.
Our bones will rest upon each other.
And I will retreat from that smoke
Knowing we can count on one another.

Our bones will rest upon each other.
I will march to my own beat.
Knowing we can count on one another.
I will not admit defeat.

I will march to my own beat,
Like troops of wild, untamed raccoons.
I will not admit defeat
When diving back into open wounds.

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