PTSD

Hi
I'm PTSD
You might know me as Shell Shock
Or perhaps Battle Fatigue
 
 
You may know me through a friend
Or maybe you know me firsthand
 
I might keep you up at night
Or maybe I take hold of your day
Waging year-old wars in a young soldiers mind
Ensuring little ones never hold their father's hand
 
I can't be cured
But looking at your searches, you know that
 
Go on, try to talk about me
I can seal your lips with belts and gunfire
And every time you visit you therapist I only get worse
 
I will make you take Xanax and Melatonin like PEZ
And try hypnosis just in case
I will make your nightmares appear
But only in the corner of your eye
 
Watch as I fill you mind with my dictionary of worthless and crazy
Who knows, maybe I'll through in that house fire or bad crash for fun
 
Or maybe you don't know me
But you see my face in friends or family
Watching as they sob about the war in their mind that you so desperately want to fight
Helpless as they beg for air with each empty gasp
 
A relapse the only thing they see as tile turns to mud and blankets into basement steps
Twisting friendly faces into the ones over them as they fight against the pain in their legs
 
Your friends can't help but they try
Begging you to get help
Or at least talk to them
Till you have had enough
 
Because PTSD doesn't go away.