Tag Archives: poem

Share your story here.. 

I’d share my story, but it’d break your damn heart.

I wouldn’t leave out any horrid details, but it’d tear you the fuck apart.

And when I share a small part, I just can’t stand the look in people’s eyes.

It’s as if they become sad, and I can see that a little piece of their soul dies. 

For my story is not of glory, nor of anything good.

It’s not as if I don’t want to speak up, it’s just that I don’t think I should.

Each waking moment – a living nightmare.

And yet, I still find myself unable to share.

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I am not broken 

With dignity stripped entirely, I uttered the words I never thought would come out of my trembling mouth.

But there I was. Saying the worst of the worst, and my mind was just.. confused.

How could anyone break trust in such a way that it completely and utterly ruins another human being? 

I didn’t think about revenge. I never thought about anything but the fact that my heart had been smashed into a million fucking sharp pieces and my brain had begun to play the tricks of PTSD on me. 

I was just always trying to wrap my head around the whole situation. 

But now.. things are different now.

I am not broken.

I am healing. 

I am not broken. 

I am shining.

I am not broken. 

I am going to be okay. 


Bitten Bullets

Bitten bullets,

and clenched fists,

all the more powerful,

when you’ve begun to lose your mind. 


I Hope And I Plead

I hope and I plead, 

that someday, 

everything will all work out, 

and that this pain will stop, my body will heal, 

and I will finally know what it feels like to be truly happy and healthy.

I hope and I plead,

that someday, 

I’ll wake up stronger than the previous days,

and I’ll feel as though I’m actually going to be okay.


The Voices In My Head

They’ve got me surrounded. 

They’ve taken over.

I can’t escape. 

I can’t run and I certainly can’t hide. 

Some of them scream and shout at me. 

Some of them have a gun to my head. 

They’re nasty beasts.

They’re the voices in my head.


Can’t Cope

Can’t cope.

PTSD has taken over, once more.

Can’t cope.

The nightmares are back.

Can’t cope. 

Getting to sleep and staying asleep near impossible. 

Can’t cope.

Filled with violent ideations. 

Can’t cope.

Want my revenge, or some sort of justice.

Can’t cope;

and my heart remains broken. 


Sometimes/The Fight

And I don’t feel right, 

sometimes..

And I want to give up the fight,

sometimes..

And I want to run away,

sometimes..

And it seems I’ve led myself astray,

sometimes..