Eyes closed.
Lights off.
No one home.
Don’t tell.
Heart sore and raw.
Scarred from sound and fury.
Peering from heavy cover.
Seeking safety in a tight circle.
Mind unreliable and afraid.
Wary steps into bright life.
Fear greater than any assault.
Unknown enemies surely lie in wait.
Spirit shrunken, a cooling, smoking ember.
Needing oxygen to fan weak flames.
Thawing frozen, brittle insides.
Slowly, slowly warming to family and friends.
Eyes open slowly.
Lights flicker.
Someone might be home.
Communication hesitates, haltingly a story is told.
“Let tears flow of their own accord: their flowing is
not inconsistent with inward peace and harmony.”
~ Seneca
Description of PTSD response or a Post-Ictal (seizure) situation.
No comments:
Post a Comment