Poem -
PTSD
Blood dripping ,
From walls to walls
Chasing demons through razor sharped doors ,
Chasing souls from the dying of dawn .
smudged red paintings like hands prints of blood ,
on soaking towels from hospital floors .
Angels crying from there wounded wings ,
.......... to be continued ?
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Comments
Such a dark, despondent scenario depicted here in this terrifying free style piece indeed, Wezzy Parnham.
However, after having said that, I happen to enjoy dark, despondent scenarios. I even attempt to write about them myself from time to time. I also suffer from night terrors brought about by PTSD. Therefore, I could completely relate.
Awesome ink...
~Dean Kuch ☠️
Well cheers for that fella ?? i never really shared my poetry with the world . But having share my mind and words with the world helps my PTSD . But thanks again
Well cheers for that fella ?? i never really shared my poetry with the world . But having share my mind and words with the world helps my PTSD . But thanks again
Well cheers for that fella ?? i never really shared my poetry with the world . But having share my mind and words with the world helps my PTSD . But thanks again
Oops!
Sorry 'bout that, Gerard.
You're very welcome, Wezzy.
~Dean :)
Please continue, I'm waiting impatiently.