Defeat Me, Paralysis

A poem about cptsd

Shivers throughout me.
The gaped wound is salted.
I, am exalted.

Lost in thought, dormant:
Verbal scrapes and bruises.
Body and mind, sore.

Coping: dangerous.
Do not let the light clean me;
Comfort in darkness.

No eyes or hands prying,
No shame levying my poise.
Numbness envelop.

Author's Note

Leave feedback about anything. Syntax errors, grammar, or just leave your thoughts on how you felt. Did you hate it? Let me know. Love it? Let me know. Didn't make sense to you? Let me know