Facing the reality of the past head-on is a task which isn’t easy because truth hurts,
And traumatic events don’t register as being traumatic until We look back @ it to prove Our proof works.
The individual who’s 1st to recognize the clear picture gets closure,
While the rest of Us drown in PTSD like wounded soldiers.
The Mind’s a minefield where psychological explosions detonate,
My emotional outbursts today are directly linked to past steps I failed to evaluate.
But who wants to go through all the details, reliving every moment,
Of times & situations which tend to feel like they’re best left unspoken?
Details! Details! It’s all in the details,
Yet the Memory’s like that street vendor who switches the package on damaged goods then puts them up for resale.
The hardest thing I’ve had to do was be honest with My Self about the things I’ve done,
No, scratch that! It was harder to dig beneath the surface & find the Reason why I let the darkness eclipse My Inner Sun.
So lost in pain & full of rage, I wasn’t ready nor prepared to Understand,
Living reckless, speeding by, just trying to fight the Numbness. Damn!
I wasted too many years, caused too much grief, & plus way too many tears.
How do I reconcile all the damage inflicted, which have become My burdens to bear,
With the fact that “he” no longer exists? In fact, I’m ashamed that “the old me” was ever there.
Yet at the same time he’s the Reason I’m who I am with the ability to empathize, forgive, & care.
Would I be so merciful & have such compassion
If I didn’t know firsthand the type of person that being lost & hurt can fashion?
The Reason behind the madness is a method which teaches Lessons,
But there’s gotta be a better way because Today,…the sickness has sunk the world into manic depression.
Categories: poems, Sean Brown
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