Poems by Someone With Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. (PTSD.)

~scars upon scars~

I wish
I wish
I wish
But they fade
They fade
They fade
Like the scars, the scars placed so delicately on my wrists, the fuel of thoughts that lead to the emptiness in my heart,
My mind;
This everlasting silence rings through my deafening ears, only hearing the cries that I plea ever so loudly,
I shout
I scream
I cry,
But no one knows why, neither do I as it is a question I never dared to ask myself from the fear of withholding the memories that make reality seem like a drifting nightmare;
Only the fading scars that have been there through it all, following, listening, hearing everything that I say so calmly, can show me they way of beauty
No smile
No smile
No smile
Can be plastered to my vacant face,
Vacant of all emotion except for two but it's not because of you, it's because of me and I know it's true, but there is nothing I can do to stop those desolate drops of pallid tears from falling off my thin lashes, slipping and landing onto my incurvate cheeks;
There are two
There are two
There are two
Emotions that I feel, the undying pain of unknown, being how the world still sits on it's axis even as I fall deeper and deeper into this turmoil of depression, and the feeling of doubt, as if my mind could become something; if it's very essence could mask the fragmented and scattered thoughts I call my own, the remembrances of those thorough actions that brought me to this point, but
I must,
I must be,
I must be what they want me to be, as I'm holding on tight to the light that they provide, I'm being grasped and tugged at relentlessly by the shifting and changing void of this perfectly skewered world, memories upon memories shroud the sun in it's gloomy slumber and all I can do is run, run like coward I am, run from the lies of "it's okay" and "you're fine"
One question
One question
One
Question;
Do these scars that decorate my frail body tell you I'm fine, do the desolate drops of pallid tears that fall from my lashes and to my incurvate cheeks tell you I'm filled with the light you dare to singe me with, are my deafening cries unheard to your ignorant ears, are my words not voiced enough, am I not enough for you?

Scars they burn my sunken eyes
Thoughts they torture my scattered mind
Tears they never leave my incurvate cheeks
Hands they never forget, nothing ever forgets
Memories they haunt me every hour of the year
I take solace in this dark figment of my imagination, forever will they be,
Scars upon scars.