ptsd-poetry

[ptsd-poetry]

Freeverse thoughts

Lost in the winds gust | Opportunities slip through my fingers | Like the blossoms in fall.

One by one they drift away | I am effortless to contain them | In a prison of my own creation

All that remains | Is the memories of what could have been | Pressed and preserved | Between the panels of my psyche | Like petals between glass | To dry and become brittle | Until only dust remains

[ptsd-poetry]

Every day I mourn for my child self who did everything in their power to gain a sense of control.

[ptsd-poetry]

The Rat

I found a rat in a glue trap today; Still alive though it’s back legs damaged. It had fed on one of its trapped siblings to survive. It reminded me a lot of myself in the past. Small. Trapped. Scared. Alone. Forced to feed off the remnants of those around me. So I took the rat and I warmed some soapy water. The rat laid still though I could tell it was scared from how quick it breathed. I was grateful it was breathing at all. After allowing the rat to soak I could peel it’s legs from the glue and wash away the blood. I could wrap it in a warm towel, nurse it to health before finally allowing it to be free. I carried the rat to the field in the carefully crafted shoebox filled with fruits and veggies a rat could only dream of, and soft bedding to nest in And as I put the box down and opened it, allowing the rat to return where it belonged and knowing fully well it will never truly understand what I’ve done for it I hope that perhaps if somebody finds me, Small. Trapped. Scared. Alone. Forced to feed off the remnants of those around me to survive; once again That I will be treated with the same kindness.

12/13/2021 | reblogs appreciated | don’t repost

[ptsd-poetry]

Queer blackout poetry from bible verses #6: Matthew 13:18-23

“The evil one is the man who hears the word and receives it with trouble or persecution. He, the one who received the thorns, is the man who worries of his life and wealth. The one who received is trans.”

08-05-2021 | reblogs appreciated | don’t repost

[ptsd-poetry]

Queer blackout poetry with religious texts #5: The way of holiness (phobe palmer, 1843)

“My soul, now bore full, in experimental verity. Lost and swallowed up in an immeasurable ocean of love, power, faithfulness in her. She is sacred”

2021-08-01 | reblogs appreciated, don’t repost

[ptsd-poetry]

Queer blackout poetry from religious text #4: Exodus

“Mercy for thousands, the children, the children’s children, and the earth. If stiffnecked people sin and take us for a terrible thing I will destroy their alters, break their images, and cut down their god”

2021-08-01 | rbs appreciated, don’t repost

[ptsd-poetry]

Making queer blackout poetry from religious text #3: Psalm 23

“He maketh me lie down. He restoreth my soul. He walk(s) through evil for me; they comfort me. And shall follow me all the days of my life and will forever.”

2021-08-01 | rbs appreciated, don’t repost

[ptsd-poetry]

Queer blackout poetry from religious text, part two: Genesis 1:29–30

“The fruit of you shall be fowl. I have given everything and, behold, these are the generations of man and man”

2021-08-01 | Reblogs appreciated, don’t repost

[ptsd-poetry]

Making blackout poetry about being queer with religious texts, part one: book of Abraham

“Father, I, was needful. Finding greater happiness and peace and rest for me, I sought for the blessings of the right to be myself. Desiring peace and rightful belonging. Father, even from the beginning, I sought my voice”

2021-08-01 | Reblogs appreciated, do not repost

[ptsd-poetry]

What is love?

"Love is speaking. Praying. Acceptance. And if, finally, friendship. A most solemn moment. In which a vassal takes oath. Devoted to serve. Defend. Accept. These show us love."

2021-06-15 | Do not repost

[ptsd-poetry]

Something about my experiencing being gay, and trans, and trying to heal.

[ptsd-poetry]

You may consider me a toy but one day you’ll replace me in the toybox.

[ptsd-poetry]

21st birthday thoughts. Dec 19th 2020

This is abt a lot of things but mostly about my bpd and OSDD. Anybody can rb but be respectful.

[ptsd-poetry]

11 / 22 / 2020

Open in new tab for better quality

[ptsd-poetry]

“Just say you fucking hate me and get it over with”

[ptsd-poetry]

“I shouldn’t be surprised you’d leave me. I was nothing more than an excuse to you, wasn’t I?”

[ptsd-poetry]

And despite everything, I hope you’re happy.