Poetry

Clinging to the hope
that someone will hear
the hint in my words
that behind bravery is fear
wanting someone to reach out
and just hold my hand
and to not have to fix it
but to just try to understand
needing just one person
to take a few moments time
to give my pain some attention
is that such a crime?
with so many accusations
and negative stereotypes to labels
is it any wonder
that trying to heal disables
the more I fight for a voice
to tell of all thats pained
the more energy I use up
and end up feeling drained

Author: Carol anne

I am 40 years young. I'm blind and I have dissociative identity disorder, I also have complex PTSD. I blog about my life with these disorders. I live in Ireland.

4 thoughts on “Poetry”

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