PTSD is not something you get over.
It is when soldiers get tired of hearing their own shots fire
Into a purple horizon of nothingness.
It is when assault victims are scared of becoming a statistic
And their brokenness is suffocating
It is when fear compels the mind to change
And it willingly obliges.
PTSD is when the darkness of human nature becomes evident
It is when it's stronghold is suddenly
More prominent than the beauty in the world
It's brash fingers create a vacuum
That ***** the sanity from your mind
Until you wake up in the middle of the night screaming
"Don't shoot me!"
"Don't **** her!"
You see him and now he is with your little sister
Taking her into his Jeep
While you stand there, watching
******* because you can do nothing about it.
This has not happened
And probably never will
But you are crippled by paralyzing bouts of anxiety and guilt and fear
From which your mind cannot console you
You can no longer hide the loss
That this event, this person, this illness
Has placed strategically within you.
It is when you will do anything to get these memories to stop playing on repeat
An endless loop maybe ended by alcohol
Check
Cutting
Check.
Promiscuity
Check
Anything that will eliminate cycle of not knowing
Of reliving
If only for a short time
Even pretending you believe in God
Because it makes it seem like there is a reason for this confusion
But then you begin to question why God would do this to his child
So you digress into darkness once again
Left feeling unsure.
PTSD is when you stop repressing memories
And they come back so forcefully that they knock you to the ground
Leaving you bruised and ******
Leaving you lost.
PTSD is different from other sicknesses
Because you do not feel sick
You feel there
Like you are in his bed again
And his room smells like mushrooms
That is actually a field of grenades
Waiting to explode throughout your small body
You remember the tone of his words
Slipping from his lips as though they are snakes
Strangling me, leaving breath unable to escape
This is not sick
As you feel no symptoms
But an altered state of consciousness
You do not even realize you are disconnecting as it happens
But this is Hell
This is war
You are broken
And the worst part about it
Is that you must understand your triggers
Your dissociations
Before you can get better.

No one ached when I died
On a dusty August morning in the swelter of the sun
They buried me in blue jeans and my coffin had a crack
A chip along the edges matched the blood along the tracks

Family preceded me; there was no one left to cry
But a single solemn woman, hidden in the back
Shed a single shiny tear; and only one to be exact

No waterfalls or bowing heads, no crowd to see me go
No burning candle vigils and no midnight serenade
I marched the gates of life and death, alone but unafraid

No one ached when I died
No questions or suspicions from the folks around the town
There were no weeping faces or a grand old death parade
Just a digger and a preacher; lowered slowly in the grave

The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.

your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about
you;

i'll cry a little more,
hurt a little stronger
love a little softer
because you no longer
make me feel sober

i'm drunk on the
memory of you

Father, I know you have seen my name on the news.
They’ll never catch me alive, I’d rather die than lose.
Mother, please, don’t cry. To find who I am and not lose my mind;
I had to start over and leave all of y’all behind.
Brother, you’re smart and talented, you’re stubborn too.
That’s what I adored the most about you
Middle sister, I know you’re worried about me but I am fine.
Give my niece a hug from me, I’ll come to visit sometime
Big sister, I know this is what you warned me about, but please try to see
He’s not the bad guy here, he pulled the trigger but the plans were on me.