Moonlight and PTSD.

What might
tonight’s
insomnia-ridden,
wishes for dreams-
of happy things…
eventually lead me to do?
I may end up running uphill-
away from me,
begging for you;
Might I find myself
in serious need
of emergency help,
when my heart
stops beating by itself?
Possibly, my PTSD
will create so much anxiety,
uncertainty,
lack of any sense of safety-
such a nightmare to fall asleep.
Shhhhh;
pretend I do not breathe;
play dead inside
of my own head,
when will it be morning?
Perhaps, the chaps
who bait the traps,
will wait down by
the creek for me;
but then again-
I can’t stand those men,
and none of them
can easily tolerate me;
What was that noise?
The Man and his Boys…
tumbling around inside
of my stoniest weed;
arched backs,
slash-hacks,
unstable,
in tailored tweed;
Flip the book pages,
lock-down the hatches
infomercial orgasms
while playing with matches;
finally…
when the skies are pink,
and my fearful mind
bangs itself to sleep;
I will sleep, somewhat
Though rather fitfully…
wrapped
inside of the quilt
that I intend to
steal right off your body.

5 thoughts on “Moonlight and PTSD.

  1. This was excellent and hit home for me, too. You captured many feelings that come with PTSD quite honestly and truthfully here.

  2. JMC813 says:

    Another piece of truly fantastic wordcraft. Stellar.