Shadow of death

This is a brand new shadow of death.

I call it that because to be honest and blunt.

I can't handle death. So I can barely handle life if I read between the lines.

Is the fantasy to survive the apocalypse.

This brand new shadow of death.

It lurks in my stomach.

Grabbing me everytime I'm walking forward.

You tore the happiness out of my belly.

You made the food throw up like jelly.

Wobbled and torn. .  .

War has always been closer than home.

Guess my PTSD does go riot when I see veterans or men who have fought just left.

My mind is a rioting change all the time within a cage.

Breathing.

Yet screaming.

It's a brand new shadow of death.

The old me.

The old love for you.

The love for you.

It really is the greatest shadow of death I've ever worn.

My ex a military man.

How did I not know , the many reason my food wouldn't stay down.

Not him , just the PTSD crown I wear so PERFECT.

I'm frightened. Nostolgic history.

The army sinks into me.

And I English tea best served best warm.

This shadow of death.

Deafeat , defeated.