;30 days I remember nothing of trigger warning – suppressed memories come out to play.
90 days I stared at the bruises on my body,
trigger warning – bruises long gone, the pain revisits sometimes.
30 more I mourned the death of life as it was,
Trigger warning – i caught a glimpse of a painting on the wall I feel defined by.
60 thereafter I lost count of the slits on my wrist,
Trigger warning – scars hiding behind ink begs to be carved on again.
100 days I forced myself out of it
Trigger warning – familiar places, unfamiliar faces.
10 days I tried to talk about it,
Trigger warning – a lovers words sounded too much like his.
20 days I burnt out nights and cigarettes
Trigger warning – the Long Island tasted too much like him, tasted too much like bile.
50 days thereafter, I started writing
Trigger warning – tuk-tuk driver takes a wrong turn; anxiety sits with me through the ride.
60 days there after, I have now exhausted the allocated quota of days I was allowed to hurt
Trigger warning – a strangers glance lingers too long on me.
100 days of telling myself I’m okay
Trigger warning – a headline says ‘rape’, I crumble all over again.
940 days since before and some days are marked by trigger warnings, and some other days, I live.