An imaginary gun exploding PTSD ammunition

Detonating emotional triggers

Bullets fly


Aimed at my heart

Direct hits

Catapulting me into foxholes of deep despair


Darkness entombs me as the pit swallows

My soul into a six-foot crater

An impossible climb for a paralyzed woman


Depression numbs

I dwell in the muck

Wallowing suits me

Melancholic songs soothe



An inexplicable whisper speaks

And an invisible hand

Mysteriously pulls me out from the mire


Suddenly I float on cotton candy puffs

Drifting dreamily

Consoling me

Just as they did when I was a kid

all rights reserved ©Nancy Jean Walker

Published by Nancy Walker