Maybe I’ll always be tortured by loud noises
The sudden silence after it echoes through the trees
Maybe my skin will always develop goosebumps
As I hear the little girl inside of me
Soundlessly scream—no, no more—please.
The emptiness that is momentarily formed in my heart
Soon fills with dread
From the conclusion of the beginning
That plays like a horror movie inside my pounding head.
Maybe my muscles will always tense
When I hear a noise similar to what ended a living
But if that’s the one more piece of evidence
That proves my heart is still beating
Though that moment disrupts my breathing,
I’ll accept the disturbance as my footsteps commence.
Tarah Hipple
Tarah Hipple is an avid student of social work and cognitive behavioral therapy. She was a blog contributor for the Open to Hope Foundation and recently authored her book Tarah’s Song: Words of Survival, a compilation of poems about her journey from tragedy to suffering to survival. Her first-hand accounts of tragedy at a young age are penned in these poems. Tarah used writing and playing the piano as a sort of therapy, and these creative outlets helped Tarah to be able to discuss feelings she had difficulty expressing. Through intense therapy for her post-traumatic stress disorder, Tarah confronted the past and found peace. She now co-presents with her father, Eric Hipple, and speaks about their continued journey of recovery and suicide prevention. Tarah was born in 1993 and resides in Michigan.
