Anatomy Of A PTSD Flashback

As I close my eyes
Images of my past
Flash before my mind’s eye
Of traumatic events
Occurring during my childhood.

Where I learned
What the price is
For being different
In standing out
From the other kids.

Triggering a spike
In my elevated levels of anxiety
Leaving behind a frozen body
Lost in the past.

Tears streaming down my face
An occasional word is heard
Between the sobs
Muscle memory
Recalls the boy’s weight
Sitting upon my body.

As his blows wail down
Upon my bruised
And very bloody body
Until he grows tires
Of this.

As I emerge
From the flashback
Finding myself
Locked into a fetal position
Limbs trembling violentlly
Like I have Parkinson’s.

As sleep reclaims me
Once again
Except this time
It’s the sleep
Of the dead.

Waking up
Feeling tired and anxious
As the flashback
Settles back
Into the background
Of my memory.

Waiting
For it’s next command
Performance.

Reviews

[R Smith]

a terrible experience for you in a world that has no idea how you are different, not abnormal just different, maybe these days there is more understanding but its sad to have to go through this even if it has created you the writer/poet whose work is astounding :)

[therisa]

Thank you, Richard. If I could, I would make sure, no one else, has to endure, what I have done, for most of my life.