My husband sits for days on end,
Staring through his vacant friend.
My tearful words fall alone,
His mind resides in combat zone.

A man replaced by shell so cold,
Numbed by scars of war untold.
Violent dreams he lives each night,
Lashing out at all in sight.

He returns to war inside his head,
Trauma stained by all the bloodshed.
A trigger pulled, his mind released,
Begging for all thoughts to cease.

His scars remain, but can't be seen,
Buried deep inside his dreams.
I wish that I, could set him free,
From the damaging effects of PTSD.

I pray for the day he's finally home,
So the trauma of war can leave us alone.

By Darren Wall

sometimes being a woman just makes me feel angry
I often wonder how many men have had to block someone’s number or profile. Or
had to change their own number to be able to breathe easily anytime their phone goes off?  
I wonder if all the men who just mean well, meant they mean well when they get what they want

i have hated physical touch
since the age of seven
when the trajectory of my life
would change forever

vulnerable
soft
physical touch

would put a feeling in my stomach
that was pure nausea
the vulnerability aspect
would cause a panic within me

until you

i crave your touch
i crave your hands rubbing my back
i crave your heart beating to the same rhythm of mine
i crave your warm South African tan on my body

i have not felt so safe with someone

until you

thank you

if i am being honest
i did not think
i was capable of feeling loss
from a lover

i always left
before they could
even think of leaving

but you left

if i am being honest
i did not realize
i felt this way at first
about you

it was not until
i was ordering mcnuggets
that you always ordered

it was not until
i realized i started falling
asleep by hugging myself

it was not until
i realized it has been weeks of silence
yet i wake every morning waiting for a text

it was not until
i realized the best parts of my day
are what i want to tell you all about

it was not until
i realized i was craving
your soft gentle touch on my skin

it was not until
the nightmares would come and i would wake in panic
wanting you to hold me

i am sorry
i miss you

since i was 7 years old
i have created
so many parts of
myself to survive
to keep myself safe

i am like a chameleon
thrown into new
places and i will
change my spots
to figure everyone out

but maybe now

i am discovering
who Erin really is
before the darkness
crept upon her
and tried swallowing her whole

to be quite frank
i am proud of her
i like her
she is soft
she is resilient
she is me