The first time I felt safe, Was not in my daddy’s arms.
I was always kept at a distance.
Like holding me was catastrophic. 
But what’s disastrous is not How I Feel.
It’s the cancer that rattles in my head.
It’s the feeling I get when I see my family.
It was the moment I realized I couldn’t trust anyone.
Trust is too great a gamble.

The first time If elt safe.
Was not when my doctore told me I’m sick.
I have a mental disease that cannot be cured.
It often hurts to think. But I only think of pain. 
It’s harsh thumping on my skull is not all I know.
I still remember what it was like to feel something good.
but like most good things, they’re only memories.
Numbed by my past. 

The first time I felt safe
I was being held by a stranger.
I do not know his name.
But I remember his face.
He is lost to the woods of my innocence. 
And to the graces of my smile forgotten.
He is the only man that didn’t have an agenda.
The only man whom never hurt me. 

The first time I felt safe.
Was like roses had wrapped themselves around me.
I knew that if I moved, Its thorns would scratch me. 
Everything comes witha  price.
Good or bad, it doesn’t matter the order.
We look to the government for protection
But they ask for our taxes and blood.
I thought once that blood was thicker than water
But the expression washed away when it was my Own blood that cursed me.

The first time I felt safe
I remember it was right before the fall
When the leaves burned brown and littered my grass.
It was hotter than New bruinswick should ever be.
But Winter doesn’t own Canada.
It is a welcome guest.
Those cold winds will never be lost to me.

The first time I felt safe
Was not when screaming for help.
Because I was silent. My voice locked in my throat.
Black ink stained my porcelain face.
Doll like and bound.

The first time I felt safe
Was not when fear encased me in darkness
Fear is often controlling.
It molds our minds.
It damages our perception of life.
Of people we have once loved or hated.
But hatred, Isn’t that love as well. 
To hate, one must have felt love for someone or somehting.
But it’s only relative.
An emotion, Broken and Fucked.

Like me.. Fucked


I remember the last time I felt safe.
I stood upon your grave
And wondered, if you really were there.
6 feet below the surface.
Could I withstand teh pressure.
The weight of soil on my breast.
My bones would crack
My lungs would burn, no air.
Do I dare think it?

How can I feel safe anymore?
I remember the blood on my legs.
But this time it was’t my blood.
It was yours. Rightfully so.
Bad karma. Your the broken one.
Not I!

I remember running away.
PTSD, Am I still running
Can I stop?

Please? ?

PTSD are you even listening


Fuck. . . 

Me. . .