The blood upon the floor will not cleanse with bleach

Nor will it wash away from the back of my eyelids

As I scrub the floors till the paint starts to recede 

trying to let go of these memories

And let the dead die


My mind replays reality

making life's past come back to present day

opening doors that I boarded up

And locked with locks that had no key

Realizing I cannot lock my pain away

For it will always follow me



This gun burns my temple 

As I think this is the key to escape

The End of these haunting memories

This bullet within the chamber

has my name enscribed on its casing

And it has it in for me

It voice is breath taking

Only taking moments to be the end of me

Struggle is only for a moment

As voices fade from reach


Let it be known I do not know this ending

wether I will just fade away

And become nothing but ash upon the ground

or live in hell

with more pain than I had left the world with

No matter the outcome

I feel whatever is deserved of me

Because everything 

And left nothing to be seen


This is my ptsd

My depression swallowing me whole

My anxiety killing me

and my addiction filling every hole


I do not know how to fix this

or if I even can

Sometimes I don't know if I am alive

And I have just become a haunted soul

I just know my past feels like my present

leaving me cold and lifeless

wishing only to be stoned

  • Author: jdblake (Offline Offline)
  • Published: September 17th, 2017 12:24
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 26
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  • Christina8

    Thank you for sharing your intimate story of ptsd, depression and anxiety. You wrote a good poem and expressed yourself well. I hope you keep writing and posting poems and that it helps you deal with the pain and maybe that it helps others too.

  • ron parrish aka wordman

    ptsd,it touches a lot of us

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