Smoke

Has nothing to do with smoke, it was just something I came up with after watching an episode of House about a girl with PTSD.

You believe this to be the final battle.

You stole from my sanity

and left me with scars on my soul.

This sicking hole inside

of me feeds off of you.

This time I'll cut you off,

instead of myself.

 

Your very name sends fear though me.

I dream of you, and consider it a nightmare.

The tragedy that formed me,

is something I’d rather not talk about,

mostly because I can’t remember it.  

 

I ache to see your death.

I laugh when you disappear.

I pray to God to help me with the apathy to your pain,

but I would rather wallow it in.

 

So this time around you

believe things can be changed.

The scars on my soul

beg to differ.

 

To be truthful I can’t remember what

you did to me. All I remember is

the pain.

 

Once there was a flashback,

but it subsided in the smoke

of your burning house.

Reviews

[Thomas Fitzgerald]

A true punch at the one enemy most cant battle, a truly great poem, well done, good read.

[sarah]

PTSD is a really hard mental illness it breaks my heart when i see it cause it's so hard on everyone great write! I really enjoyed it

[Starry Eyed]

Ahh! Just lvoe this poem! written well! Keep on writing!

[Magic plus the mayhem.]

I have PTSD. May I say you captured the moments of PTSD very well. :)
Great write.