Therapy Bits

In the quiet breath of night, I’m searching,

For the echoes of the past that still hold me tight,

Anxious whispers drift like shards of glass,

Fragments of trauma scattered, a haunting light.

Fear lingers, shadows deep in my soul,

But in the depths of vulnerability, I find my role,

Half alive, yet yearning to thrive anew,

Wrestling with demons, seeking what is true.

Healing comes softly, a delicate art,

Stitching the wounds that tear at my heart,

PTSD’s grip feels like a weight on my chest,

Yet in the struggle, I learn to find rest.

Each step forward, though heavy with doubt,

Builds bridges of courage where shadows once clout,

In the dance of the past, I learn how to stand,

Embracing the journey, a friend’s guiding hand.

So here I am, heart open wide,

Facing the storms, with the courage inside,

Though anxious, I rise, no longer in chains,

For in the art of living, my freedom remains.

FOWC With Fandango — Half – Facts, Fictions & Fantasies