Trauma is a child,
peering out the window
wondering when the car door will
slam shut.
heralding a return—
of anger and rage.
The protector is hidden and
perpetually present.
Years later the man on the couch
sits across from me.
Coronated by sunshine, seated
amongst the plants adorning his office.
He speaks in soft tones
that brush the top of my head—
reassuringly.
And I breathe and connect,
asking question after question
of that child
“Why do I …eviscerate anything that is good?”
Yet the Inner Child says,
“I only do it to protect you…”
And I say,
“But you’re safe!
You’re now absolved of duty
on my adult watch.”
I ask,
“What would you rather be doing?”
And he says
sitting on swings,
picking flowers,
rolling down hills of lush, green grass.
And he goes to sleep gently
in my lap,
a youthful sentinel
now free
to dream
Marcus Wilson
Marcus Wilson is an MFA candidate in poetry at Lindenwood University and Associate Poetry Editor for Iron Horse Literary Review. Calling Vermont’s Green Mountains home, he writes out of experiences of neurodivergence and recovery, exploring memory, inner life, and transformation. His poems appear in multiple journals, including Pulsebeat Poetry Journal and Lucky Jefferson, where he was named a finalist in the 2025 Poetry and Prose Contest.