“My PTSD”… a poem by L. N. Preston is at bottom of post.
“Girl in red ribbons” | credit: unknown
This poem is how we feel. How we live. Maybe not every single day or moment… but this is where we live.
We want you to know. We want you to understand. We want you to come closer. Our chest collapses and it’s hard to breathe when we see you back away, with that look in your eyes, of what you see.
To be rejected by you haunts us.
We write poems (like this one), draw pictures, create art…. all so you will know how we feel. What the trauma(s) have done to us. That we didn’t want to become this way. That we would change it if we could. That we didn’t do it on purpose!
We imagine our art, writings, words, pictures, blogs…. will make you understand. Will…
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