This ptsd consumes me,
With the things I see,
The Flashbacks and bad dreams,
The things that makes my tears stream.
Re-living horror that is my own,
You make me feel so alone,
When you kick in I turn to skin a bone. Nothingness. And people say I\'m the one with luckiness.
I help them all with love, light and kindness but all that seems to come from it is heartache and their blindness.
They do not see , not like me,
Not like in my dreams.
They see me, but not like me
They see the non-ptsd.