Whispers of the Soul

PTSD

Broken Time

Time fractures like glass, scattered on the floor,
Each shard a moment, a memory, a score,
In the hallways of my mind, past and present collide,
Where seconds stretch endlessly, and there's nowhere to hide.

I walk through the echoes of laughter now lost,
The weight of the silence, an unbearable cost,
Each tick of the clock feels like an unsteady hand,
Pushing me backward, to a place I can't stand.

The sun shines bright today, yet shadows loom large,
I'm trapped in a loop, like a moth at a charge,
Moments intertwine, a dance of despair,
As time slips through fingers, dissolving in air.

Yesterday's whispers creep into today,
A barrage of faces, in colors of gray,
I freeze in the present, yet drift far away,
Haunted by specters that never obey.

A smile on my lips, but my heart beats in chains,
Reality's grip loosened, twisting like veins,
The past pulls me closer, a siren's cruel song,
Reminding me always of where I belong.

I reach for the now, but it feels like a dream,
Caught in the tides of a fractured regime,
A clock with no hands, a calendar torn,
Where moments of healing feel tattered and worn.

Yet within this chaos, a glimmer of light,
That one day, I'll find my way back to the fight,
To piece back the seconds, to mend what is frayed,
To weave time anew, where I'm no longer betrayed.

So I'll gather the shards, let them reflect who I am,
A survivor of time's cruel and intricate plan,
For though I am broken, I still hold the key,
To reclaim my existence, and finally be free.