PTSD,

Is the killer stalking me,

Following me down dark alleys,

Of memory lane,

Punishing me with the twisted fear,

And the panic of the past again,

I catch my breath and clench my fists,

To calm the threat of attack,

Turning to strain my eyes in the black,

There is nothing but darkness,

Ahead, behind and to both of my sides,

The mysteries of the haunted mind,

Where nasty thoughts settle on the accused,

To erase them both in the blink of an eye,

Is the simplest aim but a complex task,

Meanwhile, I thrive behind this mask,

Yet the struggle continues so long,

As we both shall live,

And no diploma in counselling can,

Pardon your sin,

I am not the only one who knows,

The concealments you carry within.

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