Mar 30
The misery in my chest,
Reeks as if it be,
The shivery shame one feels,
When perched before a class--
Of peers whose keener eyes,
fitter thoughts,
and witter words,
Dowse one in distress,
For my eyes are weary,
My mind unwound,
And my words, but a wheezing sound.
Reeks as if it be,
The shivery shame one feels,
When perched before a class--
Of peers whose keener eyes,
fitter thoughts,
and witter words,
Dowse one in distress,
For my eyes are weary,
My mind unwound,
And my words, but a wheezing sound.
Written 28/03/25
The first time I attempted to explain trauma and my experience with PTSD to someone, I cringed and my mouth seized up like I was giving a bad presentation to a class. It's hard to explain what's so obvious to you but might be lost in translation when explaining it to someone else.
The first time I attempted to explain trauma and my experience with PTSD to someone, I cringed and my mouth seized up like I was giving a bad presentation to a class. It's hard to explain what's so obvious to you but might be lost in translation when explaining it to someone else.
