Today's Poetry

I just needed some words today.

PTSD

Plagued by fear, I
Torture myself with
Shameful visions,
Dredging the muddy rivers of the past


Bad Reviews

Like the taste of sour pickles
I don't want to eat,
But sometimes
They're hiding on my burger,
Or I mistake them
For something else:
A cucumber.
I bite unexpectedly
Then spit it out,
Or I swallow it.
They taste so bad.
I may never get that bright, potent flavor
Out of my mouth.
I wish I'd never tasted a pickle.
But if I hadn't,
How would I know to stay away?

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