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PTSD
I work to carry several heavy things
a lie the war
that violent red map in my gut
enough to have killed me
my wife in bed shifting
doubtful of my hurt
Poemas sobre el tema: trauma
Poemas sobre el tema «trauma» en Poets.by.
They Call It Fascination
it's like a nightmare
playing over and over in my head
what'd she do?
how'd it happen?
could you feel it down to the last atom?
did you want to die?
why does it matter pequeña? it's over.
because i need to know
i need to torture myself
with guilt and shame and hatred
as i live with the burden of your trauma
so i never forget it's my fault
An Un-Swung Axe
it's not your fault lindo
that i flinch every time you suddenly turn around
or that my hands shake every time i try to touch your face
or that i sob brokenly every time i can't bring myself to do it.
it's mine.
i'm just such a fucking mess who's stuck in the past and
i'm sorry you have to deal with that.