Ptsd poetry anyone?

TillyBug

New Here
There's a gaping maw
festering inside of me.
It is open and weeping,
yet there is so much I can't see.

At first, I throw it heavy meals,
but they bring no satisfaction.
I fall back on games,
but I find no traction.

I'm swimming in this pit,
unable to touch the bottom,
looking for anything
that might solve this problem.

My eyes are occupied
by this hole inside,
and the truth is
I'm using it to hide.

The longer I look,
the less I see myself
and the farther I drift
away from any help.
 

mumstheword

MyPTSD Pro
I open to him, like a flower,
His vulnerability meets mine,

We both know the deep hurt of attempted annihilation, we are satiated, in each other's arms, seen, met, safe at last ...

We cling to each other

I see him, his strength and warmth, his heart, shines like the radiant soul aaahhhh- solar plasma -the sun

He warmed me when I was cold, so cold, felt frozen to the bone ~

Cold on the inside, from the deep hate, that my babydada did bestow upon me,

We are each other's hope for a peaceful season into twilight years

Our tribe of children, not bonded by blood, but by our hearts/souls regard for each other, by love's warm embrace, by common family needs, by mamadada as one

His was knifing in the neck and head beaten with iron and cruel, cruel, lies, and betrayal, husband-beating, brain damage, and systemic-framed-and-charged-victimized

Mine was mother mean repudiation, rejection, sexual predation, cold streets my home, enslaved and impregnated by an ephobophilic man-with-something-missing, strangling and hack saw threats, assaulted by parents, deep neglect

Our trauma is part of our love,
We. Know. What. It. Takes. To. Survive.
 

TruthSeeker

MyPTSD Pro
There's a gaping maw
festering inside of me.
It is open and weeping,
yet there is so much I can't see.

At first, I throw it heavy meals,
but they bring no satisfaction.
I fall back on games,
but I find no traction.

I'm swimming in this pit,
unable to touch the bottom,
looking for anything
that might solve this problem.

My eyes are occupied
by this hole inside,
and the truth is
I'm using it to hide.

The longer I look,
the less I see myself
and the farther I drift
away from any help.

This is very good poetry from the heart! Thanks for sharing. I totally get this (my interpretation).....There was a stuck time for me.....it was hard to look at a me and I didn't look in mirrors, or take photos...and food I thought was a comfort and I ate and ate.....becoming a a very big me....that I was ashamed of....having no clue how to fix what I had made worse....it didn't get better by waiting....or being frozen....spent a lot of time hiding.....pretending.....and one day....wasn't sure of who I was.....and getting help.....afraid to do that. Eventually, I got unstuck....and lost the weight....well, most of it....but I regret waiting so long....took many years of unhappiness before things changed and I got T kinda help.
 

TruthSeeker

MyPTSD Pro
I started off as only a seed that slowly grew.
A seed that grew from tiny, soaking up the sun, the rain.
I am but a tree, that almost didn't make it at the beginning.

I started from pushing up slowly from the earth, very humbly.
I was fighting the wind, almost not surviving.
And yet I continued as the seasons slowly changed.

My experience was painful, for I was alone without love and attention.
But there was growth and change, that hurt as I matured.
I would blosson in the spring, with no one to care for me, alone.

How my soul yearned for love, for total acceptance of myself.
Was I ugly, did I look right, no one gave me any instructions
On how to live, how to feel and adapt, my cries at night the only thing keeping me company.

Sometimes the wind battered me until my twigs almost snapped off.
My tears were alone along with my lone heartbeat.
My prayers for help and a miracle fell upon deaf ears.

Sapling grew to full size, an unimportant life except for myself.
Not one human ever looked upon me.
I did not know I had worth, my loneliness was my only friend.

Each day I longed to be noticed, for acknowledgement of my existence,
Only to be met with maddening silence.
The elements were the only thing to be counted upon, nothing else.

I grew used to myself, unsure of what to feel, other than the usual pain of being alone and lonely.
The tears cried left grooves on the bark.
My heart was forever broken, never to know of the reality of anything better.

Everyday of my life was spent waiting and still nothing changed.
All of my beautiful leaves had fallen,
And one morning I was no more, unnoticed, tilted, broken.

I really like your tree analogy! I can feel this poem deeply.....
 

cedar

New Here
Even tho
Nights are long
And good dreams
Are scarce
There is comfort
In knowing
God
Even tho
Days are hard
And my heart
Feels heavy
There is comfort
In knowing
Peace
Even tho
There are storms
And trials
There is comfort
In knowing
Love
Even tho
My eyes
Fill with tears
There is comfort
In knowing
God
 

mumstheword

MyPTSD Pro
I see my dreams, plans and goals, for the year
Being swept away
In a tsunami of virus control bias
It picks them up and crumples them and adds them to the other broken dreams
And they all float away, together
They swirl and mingle
They push past us all
We watch on the side lines
As our own lives
Float past us
Broken families
Broken jobs
Broken economies
Broken festivals and sports events
broken markets, broken fairs
Broken.livlihoods
Broken study plans
Broken support networks
Broken health and health systems
broken career plans
All mingle and swirl; gently, quickly, rapidly, or violently, rudely, stealingly, startlingly, floating and moving down the river of life
My mind turns to all of us, still here
Ready to build new lives, quieter lives
More inward lives
We are still here
Still, I watch
The new world emerge
emerging from.the rubble of old lives
Lives that will live on
And build new lives
Out of the rubble
We begin anew
 
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TruthSeeker

MyPTSD Pro
I see my dreams, plans and goals, for the year
Being swept away
In a tsunami of virus control bias
It picks them up and crumples them and adds them to the other broken dreams
And they all float away, together
They swirl and mingle
They push past us all
We watch on the side lines
As our own lives
Float past us
Broken families
Broken jobs
Broken economies
Broken festivals and sports events
broken markets, broken fairs
Broken.livlihoods
Broken study plans
Broken support networks
Broken health and health systems
broken career plans
All mingle and swirl; gently, quickly, rapidly, or violently, rudely, stealingly, startlingly, floating and moving down the river of life
My mind turns to all of us, still here
Ready to build new lives, quieter lives
More inward lives
We are still here
Still, I watch
The new world emerge
emerging from.the rubble of old lives
Lives that will live on
And build new lives
Out of the rubble
We begin anew

I really like this....so very real, thank you.
 

TruthSeeker

MyPTSD Pro
Even tho
Nights are long
And good dreams
Are scarce
There is comfort
In knowing
God
Even tho
Days are hard
And my heart
Feels heavy
There is comfort
In knowing
Peace
Even tho
There are storms
And trials
There is comfort
In knowing
Love
Even tho
My eyes
Fill with tears
There is comfort
In knowing
God
This is very realistic and positive....and has a great message! Thanks for posting.
 

Changing4Best

MyPTSD Pro
Things other than
The pandemic
Are going well.
I pray a lot
For its victims
Also for me.
I am so grateful
That my health
has returned.
Friends and neighbors
Visit and call
While I read
A luxury in itself
For years I have lost.
Food tastes better.
Sleep is sounder.
Life is good.
 

TruthSeeker

MyPTSD Pro
Covid 19 hits,
it is real here,
12 people,
at church,
tested
positive.

One person,
someone
I know,
is hospitalized,
and lucky
to have
a ventilator.
 
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