Poems About PTSD by Top Critiquers
#PTSD
Poems about PTSD by top critiquers. Poems written by members who have given lots of feedback to other poets this month.
switch
I am hurting in my chambers
blasphemy is my cult pain
I'm a groupie for your love
but you will never take me serious
I'm crazy after all
I am fun to play with
my hurt a beautiful distraction from boredom
hunt my personalities
but beware some of them are cruel
you're watching me
they're watching you
leaving you clues to the crime
then bate and switch
fuck you
come closer I dare you
watch your step here she comes
inside me is monsters
raising their angry heads
I am a...
blasphemy is my cult pain
I'm a groupie for your love
but you will never take me serious
I'm crazy after all
I am fun to play with
my hurt a beautiful distraction from boredom
hunt my personalities
but beware some of them are cruel
you're watching me
they're watching you
leaving you clues to the crime
then bate and switch
fuck you
come closer I dare you
watch your step here she comes
inside me is monsters
raising their angry heads
I am a...
#dark
#MentalHealth
#PTSD
331 reads
4 Comments
Sympathetic resonance
I cannot say this aloud,
as I risk making it sound
like someone else's tragedy is about me.
And it's not.
It's about a devastated family
and their loved one.
We are reeling from the shock.
Away from the epicentre,
I can't help feeling doubly shaken
as current events make old ones reverberate within;
in much the same way
that piano or guitar strings will vibrate
in sympathy with a sudden loud noise.
It's struck too close for comfort
and I wonder,
will it always be this way?
Will that hidden, most...
as I risk making it sound
like someone else's tragedy is about me.
And it's not.
It's about a devastated family
and their loved one.
We are reeling from the shock.
Away from the epicentre,
I can't help feeling doubly shaken
as current events make old ones reverberate within;
in much the same way
that piano or guitar strings will vibrate
in sympathy with a sudden loud noise.
It's struck too close for comfort
and I wonder,
will it always be this way?
Will that hidden, most...
#suicide
#PTSD
632 reads
6 Comments
Story Poem, Nr.15 — The Wall and The River
Four generations, friendly, side by side
our two families had farmed, with the old wall
a place for meeting and shaking of hands
discussing harvests, the weather, a stall
for the Christmas Fayre; plus old friends who’d died.
The altercation came one Fall when cows
of mine, just twenty or so, were found
eating his grass, having crossed a broken spot
where crumbled stones collapsed in a small mound
rolled down the slope to where the river flows.
He banged hard on my door, smelling of drink ...
our two families had farmed, with the old wall
a place for meeting and shaking of hands
discussing harvests, the weather, a stall
for the Christmas Fayre; plus old friends who’d died.
The altercation came one Fall when cows
of mine, just twenty or so, were found
eating his grass, having crossed a broken spot
where crumbled stones collapsed in a small mound
rolled down the slope to where the river flows.
He banged hard on my door, smelling of drink ...
#relationships
#war
#countryside
#PTSD
#RobertFrost
877 reads
17 Comments
#27
I slaughtered and buried my enemies,
And my friends I kept in the fridge.
Their pictures hang on the tapestries,
And their memories sound like the kids
Outside the home of depravity
The house where I used to live
Everyone alive has capacity,
But not everyone caves in.
Still we all want to be happy
And yet we love mortal sin
Pulled on blue gloves for examining
This heart that I am stuck with
I
Keep a graveyard out in the back, sneak the brave-hearts into a trap, weave my ramparts throughout the past.
Hey look, Making excuses...
And my friends I kept in the fridge.
Their pictures hang on the tapestries,
And their memories sound like the kids
Outside the home of depravity
The house where I used to live
Everyone alive has capacity,
But not everyone caves in.
Still we all want to be happy
And yet we love mortal sin
Pulled on blue gloves for examining
This heart that I am stuck with
I
Keep a graveyard out in the back, sneak the brave-hearts into a trap, weave my ramparts throughout the past.
Hey look, Making excuses...
#SelfReflection
#PTSD
#DomesticViolence #deception
#DomesticViolence #deception
85 reads
2 Comments
SOMETHING'S WE WILL NEVER UNDERSTAND
Through our lives we are both tested mentally and emotionally and physically, unable to get into those spiritual souls that once guide us. Yet they have become invisible to the heart and mind. For the part of us that deserves to be awaken within, can no longer feel the same way we use to feel nor crave the things that we once experience. For the support and encouragement is no longer there, as the will to make the decision to be strong enough, to stand against the process of learning that we are not in control. For now there is nothing more than nightmares of darkness, that AWAITS you as you...
#anxiety
#depression
#MentalHealth
#PTSD
#nightmares
351 reads
0 Comments
I Escaped, But Only Just - Part 9: Crisis
#childhood
#bullying
#memories #PTSD
#memories #PTSD
234 reads
8 Comments
DU Poetry : Poems About PTSD by Top Critiquers