Blogging · health · mental health · poetry · Uncategorized · writing

PTSD

Mine is not the kind you find during war time
It is seen through the eyes of watching someone you love die
Hollowing my heart with a knife
After some time an illness arrives
One that brings me to my knees as I beg to die
All the while pleading for my life
The dark circles appear thanks to the fear of closing my eyes
Sleep holds no peace when the nightmares arrive
Robbing me of the control I need to survive
I waste away before everyones eyes
Skin and bones, cold and pale
Once so young, now I look so old
Doctors lined up one by one, only to tell me it is my brain that is wrong
We can not help so on to the next one
Will white sterile walls be the last thing I see
Surrounded by people who do not believe me

Jenn

2 thoughts on “PTSD

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