it all comes to a stop again
not the dystonic jerking 
( I believe even if this ended - it would always be there- my mind is respondent to every start and stop now - to a puff of wind to a car door slamming too hard- the world is filled with sound and the frequencies of sound - who were/are these people to wreck me forever - is it any wonder my thoughts are entirely focused on hate and vengeance? )
it all comes to a stop - and not the seeing and hearing
but my response to it
- I feel nothing 
there is no narrative when one's self narrative is filled only with injustice , damage and the knowing one will never be better but worse.