Friday, April 3, 2015

You Gotta Know

You gotta know my brain ain't like yours
Mental illness ain't like you have a bad day
I hear a crack like the snap of a belt
And I have visions, images, re-plays,
Of beat beat beat tiny boy trying
To be good don't complain don't cry
Don't put back the hands
Cooperate while He
Beat on bare bottom with a leather belt
Crack Crack Crack
And I believe
I am nothing but shit.

That ain't for just a moment, minute, hour, day
That's days. Days of pain I can barely endure
Pain where I feel better if I take a blade and
Cut My Flesh
Cut. Cut. Cut.

Flashbacks need lots of good days
Lots of good days to ease up.
I never know that I won't kill myself
I never know that I won't kill myself
I just endure for now
Just endure for now
Practice my coping skills

Some say PTSD rewires brains
That I need to learn to cope
Because I won't get better
There's a cheerful thought.
I hope they are wrong
Isn't decades of this shit
Enough punishment
For someone else's anger?