On the other side of PTSD

[alethea]

If I could just wake up
Then maybe my eyes would open again for both of us
And I hate feeling sick
And this smoking makes me puke
But I do it by the hour
And I do it in heels
And I listen to the trains try to steal me away.

The air never stops flowing.
It’s a pulse and a push and a stroke
It’s the life of land as flat as me.

There’s a recurring snap and slam
Dashing across my eyes
I am blinded by the flashbacks
And I hold myself tight
Waiting for my heart to come back
Down
Down, and away from the part of me
That can’t change the channel.
Down, and away from the useless medication
Away from the wishful sensations of knives
Down
And I’ll sleep again. I’ll sleep all day
And smoke all night
I just want to come down.