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Complex (poem)

By Hans Buwalda

This is what it said:
"Trauma, anything that makes our body panic."

Wait, my body, just my body?
It seems to me that trauma is a shock to all of our systems, all our parts.
Trauma brings home to us that we are complex beings with much more than a body.
I get it that we can now see trauma on detailed images of our brains
and maybe blood tests?

What about the mind?
Trauma makes people feel all the time that they are out of their minds
I'm going crazy, what is wrong with me?
I'm no longer who I was, it's racing: my mind, my brain, my sanity, my thoughts, out of control, out of my control.
Controlled by triggers and rage.

And my spirit or soul?
Where does trauma leave my spirit and soul?
I see it, it's watching me, illusive, separate, gone, lost, my spirit no longer lively and loving and caring.
Surely out of me.
Me no longer me.

Anything that makes the body panic?
Trauma.
Complex.

—Hans Buwalda