Helpless

Straight jacket

Tight hold

Zipped lips

Eyes closed

Creepy crawlers

Up my back

Temper soon will turn to black 

Frustration inches

Down my arms

Soon calls the shrill alarm

Always disguised as my voice

As if I ever had a choice

With the anger stocking

Through my childhood home

Never ever feeling alone

With the constant thoughts

Inside my head

Will it only stop when I am old and dead?

Whisper, whisper

Remorse and longing

I'm sorry to those whom I am wronging

PTSD sometimes rules supreme

Turns me into Mega Queen Mean