Twas the night before therapy, and all through the rooms,
The squeakings and moving felt like giant balloons.
The balloons full of fear followed around
Until she was found curled in a ball on the ground.
The attempts to go to bed had been made with great care
But PTSD said “haha you’re not safe in there!
” what about the risks, the memories and fears?”
And although she scrunched up her eyes and covered her ears,
The thoughts hung like mist almost able to touch,
The flashbacks catching her breath in a rush.
Yes, on the night before therapy she came close to breaking,
Fully aware of the challenge in the road she was taking.
But she took her medication and squeezed her pillow tight,
Peaceful sleep to you all, and to all a good night.
Advertisements
