You can swarm my dreams
You can mimic those long ago days
by the sound of the wind.
The calendar can read the same date
making me look over my shoulder
in shades of black and white.
Year after Year
you can remind me that I never
received the memo that it’s over.
That I was released from twenty years of tyranny.
Go ahead and remind me that I’m still waiting.
That all the IQ points don’t matter
when it comes to stored fear in the body.
You hold me in a grip of fear for Now? Then? When?
You make me want to crawl out of
this anxiety-ridden body and mind
and watch it crumple on the floor.
Fighting the messages, programming designed
to keep the illness safely tucked in the cells
of my body and mind.
Alert, ready for the next time.
You’ll have your way with me.
You’ll make my life uncomfortable
for days and weeks at a time.
Pawing at, and choking as the skeleton hands of the past rise up;
Those bony cold hands gripping tight around my neck.
You make me question all reality
You, you nasty PTSD
You try, and sometimes succeed
at chipping away at my health for days and weeks at a time
leaving me wobbly, unsteady, and questioning.
As I’ve told you before, I’m telling you again
with the same resolve as the fiercest warrior
“Go ahead and try to swallow me, you nasty PTSD
I will never go down without a fight.”
The storm will pass
My illness and I will again find a way to cohabitate.
It will lurk quietly; resting, retreated
And I’ll find comfort in the knowledge that when it emerges again
and the cold begins to ooze up my spine
that I’ll never go down easy.
©Alexis Rose, image source: Pexels
Thank you for reading my books: If I Could Tell You How It Feels, and Untangled, A Story of Resilience, Courage, and Triumph