It’s only one of me and Ill fight all ten of y’all. I can’t think with anger brewing tattooing a image of bruises on you. I don’t even know why I am so mean sometimes and why I have bad dreams and flash backs of bullets coming threw my wind shield and the life of my passenger taken. Lord have mercy rest in peace because your enemy is taken a permanent nap. Don’t like my book… CLOSE IT! You think you tougher than me… SHOW IT! Because the only person I fear is the man in the mirror. No big words twists turns and metaphors. Just true facts intact. Verbal waterboarding you to death. A mind that seen know Christmas or thanksgivings with family members just fist fights, iron battles in the middle of the streets and cold prison sentences. 23 and 1… 24/7 with no nice bed sheets and throw pillows. So what does life mean to you because mine is a constant fight for survival and post traumatic stress disorder is my only friends and family.


8 thoughts on “P.T.S.D

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s