I am a continuous spasm of tumultuous chaos

 

I divided the survivors of my mind into refugee camps

 

And there are few left I fully trust after the war

 

A haunting screech resonates from the depths in the cavern of my soul

 

It is the cry of the wounded who refuse to die

 

Their strength is both loved and hated by me

 

Ruins are left in place of once solid architecture

 

My refugees work to rebuild their city within my skull

 

But the bombs detonated on more than just the streets

 

They fell on innocent civilians and pure ideas about things that still seemed sweet

 

Their fire consumed the structures that held the safety of who I was

 

And now we must rebuild from the ground up

 

If only I could give every survivor what she needs

 

But my supplies have been diminished in the crossfire of camps

 

On top of my survivors, outside forces request for my recovery to hasten

 

A city cannot be rebuilt in one night

 

Post-traumatic stress does not just disappear

 

My cranial society will have to rise again in time.

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