Pinch Me PTSD

I learned never to leave the trodden pathBy walking into a wasp nest.For the 150 wasps that attacked me,Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt that much.Each sting didn’t hurt more than a pinch.But I suppose trauma sometimes doesn’t careAbout how much it hurt in the first place.When you re-live the helpless fear of running through a forestLike

Wildflower

I’m tired.I’m always outside in pouring rainAnd expected to stand tall even though I’mTrampled by passers by.They’ll only see me as beautifulFor the two weeksI bloom.They’re all strangers, who will forget meAfter I’m gone. I wish I could be brought home in someone’s arms andPlaced with pride on a warm windowsill.Watered, nourished and cherishedEvery morning

Blitz Corona

You are being asked to turn of the light,Grab the rope and pull the chain,To willingly plunge yourself into darknessAnd change your entire life. You don’t know when the light will turn back on.For some, they will not see the light again.You may not see the light again.Even if you do,By the time its back