PTSD really sucks. Every time you think you’re out of the rabbit hole something slams you back in. Well, no more. Letting the memories of my traumatic past ruin my now, causing me ty o fear my future, stops here.
A scent on the breeze
A whisper on the wind
Leaves me reeling
Falling back into that hole
Fickle memory
There’s no one around
But I hear you feel you
Falling back into that hole
Memory wreaks havoc
On my mind
My heart my soul
But I stop this time from
Falling back into that hole
Descent Rising 