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

 

Until

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