wet cheeks,
short of breath
he cried out for
a hand to hold,
a soul to feel,
anything to make him real.
waves, torrenting winds
slash at his sides
as he gasps for air,
but he sits,
eyes wide,
in his bedroom
silently reserved in his mind.
thunder, screaming
“you shouldn’t be here;
it should have been you;
you don’t deserve
this air you breathe”
as his eyes
take on a duller shade
of red and brown.
as the clouds lift away…
he hears a small voice…
feels a small hand in his…
sees the face
of the one he loves…
darling you were there all the while.
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#poetry #prose #anxiety #writing #storm #poets on tumblr #ptsd #flashbacks
