Poetry with the barefootpoet - one word, and you riff on that!

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Tornadic Thoughts

MyPTSD Pro
Mother

You were supposed to love me like no other,
But rather, you worked hard to tear me down and smother.
Leaving me longing to be nurtured and loved by others,
The connections I don't feel make me shudder.
If only I'd been given a chance to voice my druthers,
Grateful for the kindness I've found in my cosmic sisters and brothers.

Next word: Empty
 

mumstheword

MyPTSD Pro
Empty is his eyes looking out at me
Bottomless pits of darkness, so hungry
My light he did covet, he would not let me be
Beg, I did plead for him to set me free
Along came a friend who I know could see
He taught me things that broke the spell
The light shining from his eyes, I could tell
He was for real and what it meant to me
Became my life, I did revive
Now I aspire to walk the path
With friendship, we make each other laugh
Blessed, we confess our pain, and together we break the chains and correct the trains
Of thought that bind our brains
So now we have love not blame
No more games, just the same wavelength.

Believe
 
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mumstheword

MyPTSD Pro
Brains,
All in a fog,
Circuitry clogged,
Like Pavlov's dog,
Robbed of freedom,
Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery says Bob,
What abuse has done to me cannot be stopped,
But I can rewire, mustn't tire or give in to ire,
Just keep on plugging away to free my brain
From this pain and trauma train, that goes round and round
Where is the love and healing to be found?
Inside of me, so I'll rewire me and overcome
Now this poem, it is done.

Next word is

Give
 

Fiadh

Confident
Escape is that moment, that minute, that second.

You look around you and realise you everything's not quite what you reckoned.

For good or for bad, escape can be used. To get away from the horror, the unthinkable, the abused.

But escape from these feelings of what, who, why, when, where. Constantly checking and that stupid dumb stare. Is the escape that I chose, I just don't know how to get there...

Next word: Teapot
 

FranklyMyDear...

Policy Enforcement
put on the kettle
crisis afoot
pain cringes through muscle
fascia, cells, infrastructure
go lay in the deep white snow
flat out let the
steam rise
cool the muscular strain
hold still
come in when your ready
chicory in the teapot
creamer on tray
well sugared

Next word: lather
 
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