Ptsd poetry anyone?

TruthSeeker

MyPTSD Pro
Thanks Ash! Glad to have you contribute to this thread. I am both a retired teacher and currently a writer in my own home business. I find poetry and prose are all good distractors...making for a richer life....while bringing healing along the way.
 

8888

MyPTSD Pro
I'm understand the feeling of entrapped within oneself. I'm sorry you are feeling this way. Can you imagine not being a prisoner to yourself? If so, what would that look like?
I noticed your username: 8888-you know that signifies abundance, good fortune, financial stability, and even a windfall. Its a very positive username!
Thank you! I guess if I'm able to overcome more of my triggers so I am not avoiding common objects I would feel like less of a prisoner. :)
 

Changing4Best

MyPTSD Pro
I suppose

I wonder what the connection is between people who feel little pain
And those who suffer pain beyond belief?

I'm one who suffers little, while many folks around me need
Pain management.

I'm really grateful for this
But I feel bad that so many
Who suffer, do so silently

I suppose maybe that we
All suffer better together
Than alone.
 

lostforgottensoul

MyPTSD Pro
I haven't written poetry in a while so thought I would share:

The crimson road

The crimson liquid drips
As the devil takes his sip
The darkness grows near
Escaping all her fears

She takes his hand
And follows him down the red sand
Down the crimson road
Her truths untold

Drowning in the crimson gold
The devil has her sold
Selling her soul for peace
Because this pain will never cease

10 stories down
Is the sweet, sweet sound
The darkness calls
And 10 stories she falls

My sweet sparrow fly
My sweet by and by
My sweet sparrow fly
You are too young to die

Dreams left behind
In the devil's bind
Down the crimson road
Is the soul she sold

Follow the crimson road
To places untold
Deep dark cave
The lost child you need to save

She doesn't want to die
Behind those sweet blue eyes
Inside of the mental prison cell
Behind the gates of hell

My sweet sparrow fly
My sweet by and by
My sweet sparrow fly
The child inside

She calls from down the crimson road
As the air grows cold
Screams fall on deaf ears
Not a soul cares

The devil has her now
And he won't allow
She is in his red hot arms now
And he won't allow

Don't follow the crimson road
The devil will have you sold
The crimson liquid drips
As the devil takes his sip

---
It's about cutting and suicidal ideations.
 

StillPen

Confident
Body memories that won't go away
They linger and torment all night and all day
Each morning they bring me straight to my knees
A daily barage that cause me to seize

Breathe in, breathe out
Let the feelings subside
And on this wave, I'll just have to ride
Until finally the switch, and I'm swept away
To tomorrow's dreams or sad yesterdays

I'll take this day, too, one step at a time
'Till somehow it ends with no reson or rhyme

And hopefully, willfully, wanting to heal
Get up and do something to change how I feel.

For some can relate and I wish you the same
Peace and relief from this endless game.

Mod edit - post moved from this thread on body memories
 
Last edited by a moderator:

TruthSeeker

MyPTSD Pro
The Wilted Leaf's Bargain

My heart needs release
Release...
Release...
Release...

From the carried blame,
And troubled shame
That fight the way back
To their rightful owners

May the waterfall of grief
Find relief
In the reservoir
Of its' tears
And may the sun,
dry your tears,
and bring you energy
to light the way.
 
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