Case Closed

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 My body was a crime scene, taped in yellow fear,

Every breath an echo of what once happened here.

Fingerprints of trauma lingered on my skin,

Every touch a question I was scared of letting in.


I walked myself like evidence, guarded and still,

A witness to my own pain against my will.

Bruises lived in memory; shadows in my head,

Testimonies whispered of the things I left unsaid.


I learned to live in fragments; lock each fragile door,

Calling numbness safety, convinced I needed more.

I mistook the quiet for peace; absence for control,

Built walls around my body to protect my wounded soul.


But healing came like kindness; patient, slow, and true,

A voice beside the wreckage softly saying, “This is you.”

Not here to take or question; not here to claim or blame,

Just here to help me remember, I am more than just the pain.


I peeled away the caution tape; let sunlight trace my skin,

Turned the evidence into history, and let the living begin.

My body is not proof of all the harm I’ve known,

It is a home returning; finally my own.


Now love arrives respectfully; asks before it stays,

Moves with gentle reverence, through my tender days.

No interrogation lingers when I’m held or seen,

Only healing in the space where the hurt has been.


I close the file with steady hands, though honour what was true,

The past does not define the life I choose to now pursue.

The crime will never own me, nor decide who I am,

I survived the breaking, and still even now I stand.


©️ Wonderland Wanderess 2026

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