My Life with PTSD
Nothing about this is "normal"
Not a single bit "fair"
That my hands will always tremble
Even when someone loves me
Even when someone shows me care
It isn't something that goes away
Or something anyone can fix
It's not something to be forbade
Since it'll still be there every time the clocks ticks
Because I am not made of sugar, spice, and everything nice
As the stories say
More like broken glass, flames, cuts, and knives
Even though everyone thinks I'm okay
Every quick movement
Feels like a threat
From a time I knew a hand
Who swung with never a regret
Even when I am getting better
I still have sleepless nights
Even though I know I'm safe
I still live like my safety is a lie
I'll always remember the slamming doors
And the way the booming voice from the living room sounds
I'll always fell his hands o me
And the arms that got wrapped around
I still feel the counter, digging into my back
From when I was twelve years old
And my dad raised his hand
Over a spilt water glass
I still remember the fear
Of walking into my uncles house
He couldn't even blame beer
For why his hand went under my blouse
This may sound gut-wrenching
But imagine having to relive it
Even when you know you're safe
All it takes is one look, one smell, one glimps
For it to all come back and be real again
The memories, nightmares, and reactions aren't normal
It comes from my PTSD
And I wish I could make it go away or stop
But that's not an option
Because even when it hurts
This is my life and this is part of me
