Minutes feel like hours.
My hands do not feel like my own.
I hurt.
All over.
The buzzing in my mind
Sends me to the brink
Of numbness and back.
I drift in and out
Following the rapids of time.
I do not feel.
I feel too much.
There is nothing.
But everything is pushing down
In a cacophony.
I cannot silence.
I will not silence.
The light at the end of the tunnel
Hurts my eyes.
YOU ARE READING
Letter To My Past Self
No FicciónThese are several short stories about my life. There are several triggers such as rape and PTSD.
