I still feel the phantom pain
That your fist left against my face
There's still a scar above my eye
From when you beat me that one night
I never really knew what it meant to be
Free from your abuse and all the misery
I thought that it might feel so amazing
But I'm just not the girl I used to be
I never knew my suffering, had a label and everthing
See there's a thing that girls like me
Are forced to go through while recovering
We call it, PTSD
YOU ARE READING
Poetry of my mind
PoesíaThis is all my poetry that I am writing. It's almost all love and depression for now. It's all free-write poetry, not following any guidelines. I'm only thirteen so it's probably not very good but I wanted to share it with you.
