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

~fast asleep; my dream come true~

I wonder what it's like; being in love and loved, all of the in betweens and outsides, success and failure. All strings attached to shape a beautiful concept we call a heart, threading it's self into your eyes, blood, and heart; only so you won't forget either the love, or the hate. I wish for it all, wonder and dream; but that's just it, it's nothing but a dream; a senseless and paranormal image to fight its way to the surface of my eyes. I want all the love, all the pain; I do, for all of these tears I shed at Midnight Moon are frivolous and empty, meaning nothing to you but everything to me. I'm fast asleep with the tears forever streaming down my face with no purpose; just the feeling of weakness and instability that wedges itself into my brain. My dream come true never existing; all I do is wait, I wait. Seven years was not good enough I suppose. They say to wait a second; but there is hardly room for seconds if the seconds melt away, so know this now and forever remember. Remember me? The girl with the broken and damaged eyes? The girl who waits on the front steps of her house; waiting for someone who doesn't care. Smiling through those helpless tears, looking up at the sky and asking herself 'why'; why do I wait for a broken promise, why do I deprive myself the luxury of a home. No; I have a home, but it's gone now. Such a way to say I love you, leaving me. Stay with me I would say and you'd just smile and say 'I will be back soon. I promise.' why break me more, as I'm not bent I am broken, my emotions scattered across the floor like the fall leaves that have fallen from the trees. Shame is all I feel after dreaming of love, for I could never have the honour of such a beautiful thing; I am fast asleep, and my dream won't come true.