There are clouds in my head,
My days are all winter, just gray.
My face - tear-stained,
My mind is locked inside something concrete,
I'm exposed to the sun, my lungs are melting inside out,
Vodka shots and black wine,
I'm drinking up to wash my insides clean but I'm only getting dirty,
I've lost control - it was a good friend before,
I see scars - are you my new lover?
I'm in the dark,
I'm talking to the walls,
I'm mad. I'm in defeat. Euphoric rage.
Trapped. Anxious. Uncertain.
Wounds. Grudges. Haunting thoughts.
I never wanted to be born - who asked my permission to give birth?
I never wanted to live - why am I not allowed to kill?
Save me,
From myself.

-

"Oh, but you turned out okay. It couldn't be all that bad."

Yes, I turned out okay because that's the choice I made, the decision I took over and over everyday DESPITE things weren't okay. One weak moment, one wrong decision and it would be a whole different conversation.

If I turned out to be okay that DOESN'T JUSTIFY all the bad things that happened. Don't sweep it under the rug and call it silver lining.

So, shut up and listen. It's my trauma. Pretend to care for a while.

-

They cured every tiny scar
on her skin that they left,
unaware of the raging war
in her mind and new wounds
painted deep inside her soul.

...some cuts don't make a sound.

-

....

-

There are days
when I cut myself carefully
and cry in bits.
There are other days
when I hold a knife carefully,
crying, trying
not to cut
myself into bits.

-

Those who have seen,
the real face of war.
Will carry war within
their soul.

Peace may come,
through them.
Yet, their fractured
soul will never carry
peace.

-

Read the caption ❣️

-

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder

(READ FULL IN CAPTION)

-

And uncertainty for someone with
anxiety is like strangers for an infant.

-

He seemed stagnant
Smelled like it too
Scruffy, unchanged
Nothing to do
His eyes were void
Nothing left
He wouldn't speak
Wished for death
He was a soldier
He fought hard
When he came home
Always on guard
He couldn't sleep
Gunshots in his head
Nightmares brought back
All of the dead
He couldn't work
He drank a lot
Just to forget
The war he fought
He's forever stagnant
In a pool of blood
Tears drop down...
For soldiers above...

-