Ptsd poems

In this brief blog, we have curated a list of pf PTSD poems which can offer you some relief as you go through your PTSD episodes.

What are the symptoms of PTSD in adults?

The symptoms of PTSD in adults will differ from adult to adult but there are some main PTSD symptoms that you can find in adults. If you have experienced a traumatic event in your life within the past year or two years then you may experience some PTSD symptoms can be diagnosed from one month after a traumatic event and some symptoms may not even appear for months or even years after a traumatic event. If you are looking for a PTSD symptom then you should look for the below:

You may re-experience the trauma by vivid recollections of the event. You may feel you can smell, feel and even touch while experiencing these vivid recollections. You may have regular flashbacks or nightmares which go over the traumatic event.

You may also have certain new fears which develop such as fear of people, places or activities that you had done before you experienced the trauma.

You may also feel incredibly excited, have difficulty concentrating, have difficulty sleeping and you may find that you are easily angered or irritated.

What’s it like to have PTSD?

Having PTSD is very hard as you may experience regular flashbacks which make you feel disorientated, stressed and always on the edge. Your trauma may be triggered by certain smells, colours, sounds etc. You may also experience a lot of nightmares about the traumatic event.

The symptoms may not be the same for everyone so if you feel like you are experiencing PTSD then you should consider speaking to a therapist who may be able to help you.

Can PTSD go away on its own?

Yes, PTSD can go away on its own as it doesn’t always last forever. In some cases, you may not even need any treatment to get rid of your PTSD. In some cases, your PTSD will just go on its own. In some cases, the symptoms of PTSD will slowly fade over in a few months. In some cases, the symptoms will last for a few years. PTSD may not go away, some people will always live with PTSD.

PTSD poems

This list of PTSD poems may help you if you are trying to get over your PTSD or maybe you are looking for helpful PTSD quotes to make you understand PTSD more. It could be that this is your first step onto your healing process and these PTSD poems may assist you in seeking help for your PSTD.

Or maybe you have a family member who is suffering from PTSD then these PTSD poems may be able to help them further understand their conditions.

These PTSD poems may also be able to help you when you are having a PTSD episode. You can store these PTSD poems on your phone or by bookmarking it on your browser.

The first batch of 5 PTSD poems

“Storm out my Window

Swaddle me

You angry clouds

Shroud me

In your majestic stance

Cuddle my hurt

Stand my ground

Wash me away

With a gurgling sound”

“ Let Me In

The walls are up, I can feel them

My hands skim the cool wire fence that

Separates me from my inner workings

The edge of my consciousness

I want to get inside

A false sense of bravery is all it is

Because when the gate opens and I walk in “

“The Movements of Sadness

1

My pen scrawls calligraphies

Not of Happiness, but of Sadness

These are words that lilt as they sag

with the lonely weight of suppressed verses.

 “

“  Post-traumatic stress disorder

Prone to serious depression

Pain that seldom dwindles

Processing the same day

Plaguing the soul, drowning

Playing the sounds daily

Poor times seem definite

Pessimism that seems deadly

Perpetually torturous, strikingly demonic

Passion terminated, seemingly destitute

Pouring tears, streaming down

Perusing the sorrowful darkness

Photographic, the static dimension

Pass through Satan’s doorway

Pass the sour diesel

Prescribed thirty seven drugs

Pilsner, tequila, sangria, diazepam

Parched, taste sullied, dry

Pariah to society, derelict

Prone to steady decline

Praying that screams dissipate

Prone to suicide, damned

Primordial threats, safety diminished

Peace threatened, seeminigly dead

Passion tranquilized, sudden demise

Past the summit, dropping

Plummeting, the soul deadens

Praying that solitude dissolves

Jack M. Freedman

Published in Rising Phoenix Review “

“ Anorexia

Fire away

Fire at will

Shoot to live

Shoot to kill

Born to die

Born to lose

Light ‘em up

Light the fuse

Endless fight

Endless waves

Mighty force

Mighty slaves

Poison sky

Poison pain

Shrapnel bomb

Shrapnel rain

Bullet sweat

Bullet shell

Given lead

Give ‘em Hell

War for peace

War of dogs

Pray for end

Pray to God “

The second batch of 5 PTSD poems

“  Naiveté

Just try to ignore him…

Ignore his stench,

Like sweat drenched fears?

Ignore his laugh, 

Like a shrill in my ears?

Ignore his face,

Like a revolting ghoul?

Ignore his imbalance,

Like a battered mule?

Ignore his touch,

Like a rugged wrench?

Ignore his darkness,

Like an endless trench?

Ignore his power,

Like a stifling net?

Ignore the things,

I beg to forget? “

“  Post Traumatic Stress Disorder

A clash of anger

A slam of doors

A shattering of wood

Across the floor

A simple something

That sets me on edge

And forces me to

Relive it in my head

More desperate shouting

Anger at its peak

Trapped in a room

Things looking bleak

Seven years old

Should I pick up the phone?

Reporting my parents

Is against what I know

Reliving it vividly

Those little bits I remember

The peace in my life

Being dismembered

Coming back to closed airways

And ants crawling on my brain

Falling to the floor crying

Feeling helpless and drained

No one is ever there

When these attacks happen

They rip through my head

A silent assassin

I always feel small

After hearing them yell

I just want to curl up

And simply be held  “

“ Wars legacy

In the depth of war, death 

has its hold on every man,

shaping the battle with pain

no one has a long life span.

Death whispers it’s final words

stench of rotten flesh fouls our nose,

the noise of gunfire lights the skies

just like fireworks the night it glows.

Death crawls across river and field

taking hold of every beating heart,

in the end a few return home

to live the nightmare as they fall apart  “

“Memories

All these memories racing through my head,

Cutting so deep I kinda wish I was dead.

I think about how you hated me,

I think about how you “loved me”,

I think about how you claimed,

You put noone above me.

How I covered for you telling everyone I’m fine,

I think about how you tortured me,

And held me captive in my own mind.

I wish I never loved you,

I wish I never met you,

If I could redo the first time you hurt me,

I never would have **** let you.

In and out trying to sell me dreams,

Again and again,

Nothing is what it seems.

Every time another piece of my heart broke,

And again and again,

My life went up in smoke.

It’s like you was the laugh,

And I was the joke.

Thinking of all the stuff you used to do,

Man..

I used to hate myself for loving someone like you.

I gave up on a mate,

My heart’s so full of hate.

Love isn’t real,

Time doesn’t heal,

And If I never love again,

Pain I’ll never feel…  “

“  You Brought That War Back Home With You

You brought that war back home with you

The pain still hiding within your wounds

A blood-soaked sponge inside your skull

Your brain still reeling from horrors untold

A dark stowaway lurking within

And now that war is in your home

The bullets leak out of your hands and mouth

The blood sprays on your wife and kids

A dark red stain on your bedroom floor

And your bloodied eyes hiding it all

Your children cry but you just hear

The screaming echoes of wounded friends

Your memories have you under siege so

The hatch stays closed and the armour strapped

And you bury your pain in your heart

You went out there to save more lives

But you’re forgetting to save yourself 

Your armour needs removing now

You need to open the hatch and see

All those fires inside of your wounds

Let someone help you clean your wounds

And wring that blood from inside your brain

And guide your pain from out your heart

Then you can finally come back home

Without getting fresh blood on the rug “

“Always in the shadows

Lurking in the shadows

In the spaces of my mind

Are the memories of the traumas

I thought I’d left behind.

Where nightmares are my reality

A solitary confinement I’m locked inside

Where the PTSD is stalking me

And there is no place to hide

Where the demons of my past

Have found a cosy place to dwell

Coming out and confronting me

Aroused by sight, or sound, or smell

Where simple tasks like shopping

Or even getting out of bed

Seem almost insurmountable

Because of monsters in my head

Where anxiety is always there

And sends my emotions reeling

Where breaking down and crying

Is the only thing I’m feeling

Where loud or sudden noises

Like the slamming of the door

Will have my heart rate racing

Or have me curled up on the floor

Where I can’t remember little things

When I walk into a room

When someone tells me something

That I’ve forgotten all too soon

Where I can’t control my anger

Where the rage will not subside

And I sit alone with my thoughts

Contemplating suicide

The soul destroying misery

The endless torment and despair

And succumbing to its burden

Is an ever present fear

Just like you I’m only human

But my mind’s a complex mess

And I’m scared I’ll be defeated

By my Post-Traumatic Stress  “

The third batch of 5 PTSD poems

“ Neglect Without Conscience

For my brother Mike

Long shadows of regret now hide the pain,

like rivulets of blood that mask the sand.

Disturbing dreams and visions come unplanned,

reminders of the horrors in refrain.

His feet no longer stand on shiny tiles,

the bathroom fading out, replaced by Hell.

Each second brings a bullet or a shell,

to end God’s gift of life the gun defiles.

Forgotten for their service with neglect,

our heroes battle demons in disguise.

But still the empty soul shows in sad eyes,

a fact their friends and loved ones can’t detect.

Long shadows of regret now hide the pain,

but screams of wounded, dying, e’er demand.

Reminders of the horrors in refrain.

Alistair Muir 2019 “

“  If my younger self were still around

I wonder what they’d think of me

I can’t help but think that

They’d be confused

They wouldn’t recognize me as theirself

I’d be just another burnt out adult

Scary and unable to epathize

Enough to really understand me

I imagine I’d feel alone and anxious 

Staring at this strange reflection

A mutated image

Warped in the rings of teardrops

That stain this puddle under my feet

Where did the curiosity go?

What about the intense emotions?

Any emotions really

I think I’d be afraid

To come face to face with

The future that is my present day

I know that there’s so many things

Positive features of this life

That I never could have imagined then

I am still living and breathing

Taking care of myself

Loving and being loved so deeply

I didn’t think I’d see 18

Let alone 23

And yet

I can’t help but believe

That all the experiences that led me here

Would scare younger me

Enough to change my story

Because there were so many times

I wanted to

And sometimes

I still do

But I know I’m still growing

And there’s still time for me

To learn who I am

To celebrate my flaws and strengths

To love myself wholeheartedly

To simply be me

It’s just hard sometimes  “

“I am not a hero

I am not a hero

I was watching as the parade passed by

All the soldiers and the tanks

I figured that in some small way

I must go tell them “Thanks”

I worked my way throughout the crowd

To where the parade would end

And hopefully my small “thanks”

Would get me a new friend

I watched as people finished

I got my words straight in my head

I walked up to a soldier

And this is what he said…

I am not a hero

Just a soldier, nothing more

I’m just doing my duty

As so many have before

I’m a soldier, not a hero

I am just the same as you

I’m just doing my duty

As I know that you would too

I shook his hand and said my “Thanks”

Then I moved away, unnerved

I had to tell him more…

Tell him that I’m glad he served

I turned and at that moment

I saw, a glint, a little sheen

Right above this mans left boot

Where his shin bone should have been

I went back on my mission

I had my words there in my head

He smiled, pulled his pant leg down

And this is what he said…

I am not a hero

Just a soldier, nothing more

I’m just doing my duty

As so many have before

I’m a soldier, not a hero

I am just the same as you

I’m just doing my duty

As I know that you would too

I shook his hand and smiled

Left him standing all alone

With a leg of polished metal

Where once before was bone

To me, he is a hero

And he will be ’till he’s dead

I remember how he cut me off

And I remember what he said….

I am not a hero

Just a soldier, nothing more

I’m just doing my duty

As so many have before

I’m a soldier, not a hero

I am just the same as you

I’m just doing my duty

As I know that you would too    “

“  -0 ii. (driftwood)

on december mornings, the whistling of glacier fog

is effervescent if I listen humbly enough; just the graze of a pitch and I can smell the rewound wind, that which I had raised 

goosebumps against — deep in my prior — smooth and unscarred

and now I seep, 

acidic, 

into my adolescent mind;

withering and waning in my current, heightened

and I can feel the sweltering 

bubble up my airway, violent; incorporeal

sears me in two and I

swell shut

I can’t feel the wire around my throat anymore

dragging me as a dog, away from home

now it’s real

it’s real all over again

and I cradle myself in real-time as

I do in memory, knees drawn to my sternum I

stare out of my perimeter at reality and somehow

it is not as pungent as reality should be

rather I am pungent, (far, far away…)

my ache for an end is

pungent

as do my sides ache with how fervently I hold them

to protect myself from the frequencies of the past

who’s waves crash into my physical body like grief

nerve endings pin-prick

hypersensitive,

against the torture.  “

“  Embarking point

once was a shadow of who I am

deathstalker crawling in Kuwaiti sand

don’t need a sting or a spider bite

tormenting demons visit every night  “

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Ptsd poems
Ptsd poems

Ptsd poems

Ptsd poems

Ptsd poems

Ptsd poems

Ptsd poems

Ptsd poems

Ptsd poems
Ptsd poems

If you are suffering from PTSD, depression, anxiety, loneliness or any similar mental health issue then seeking help for it may be a good option. Mental health issues such as depression, loneliness and anxiety can affect anyone of us.

If you are under 18 then CAMHS, an NHS run programme may just be the answer for your mental health struggles.

You should look to see if you meet the CAMHS referral criteria and then fill in the CAMHS referral form.

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