In this expressive spoken word poem, Anya Klimitchev shares her experience with PTSD, and highlights the associated hyperarousal and powerful flashbacks.
" ...They seem to puncture my heart
making it so that it is impossible
to love myself or anyone else
because of my damaged stature
of insecurity and fright.
They seem to puncture my skull
making my brain forget to tell me
that where I am is not back with my father
that where I am is not back in that abuse
that where I am is not the black hole of hate
that always seemed to consume me when I was there.
They seem to puncture my soul
causing my sense of self-conscious
to be lost to the deep end
taking away my dreams and goals ..."
" ...They seem to puncture my heart
making it so that it is impossible
to love myself or anyone else
because of my damaged stature
of insecurity and fright.
They seem to puncture my skull
making my brain forget to tell me
that where I am is not back with my father
that where I am is not back in that abuse
that where I am is not the black hole of hate
that always seemed to consume me when I was there.
They seem to puncture my soul
causing my sense of self-conscious
to be lost to the deep end
taking away my dreams and goals ..."
RSS Feed
