When the Stars Fell

The first time the stars fell, I was horrified

As if the Earth itself had shifted on its tilted axis

Off kilter and haphazard with no end in sight

Where life before trauma would never return

And it did not.

The second, third, tenth, twentieth time the stars fell,

Fear retreated into numbness and normalcy

Used to the constant tug of gravity on shoulders

Where life before trauma felt like it never existed

Even though it had.

Now that I am safe and healing, falling stars still occur

Like reminders in my periphery of what happened

Replaying the same trauma tapes long boxed away

But they no longer have the power to abase

They are far away now

Only small specks on a canvas of stars.