PTSD

 

 

 

I stayed and I ask myself why

Listening for an echo to come bouncing back with an answer that never comes

So I am left wondering and incomplete  

Like a cake taken from the oven too soon,

Fine on the outside but inside, a murky cesspool waiting to overflow

 

The voices. The flashes. A movie playing over and over.

And over.

Where I run and run and the moment I look over my shoulder,

You are standing in front of me again,

With the knife to my throat and I never stop bleeding

 

And now the wound is too old to heal, and too deep.

The scab torn away so many times my body simply forgot how… so I seep

Leaving a trail that everyone can see,

The stain that covers me, envelops me, controlling me

And I did

I stayed till there was nothing of me left to kill.

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About voyrrr

I live in the beautiful mountains of western North Carolina and am inspired by the things I see every day.

Posted on February 21, 2016, in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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