This powerful poem resonated with me and my PTSD triggers.
Photo by Biel Morro on Unsplash
I saw the white line first.
Then the purple haze
Lavender I realized
31 lines I memorized
The edges sharper on the right side.
I ran my finger over the center
So smooth as if it had been glazed.
Here I lay
In my daze
Staying focused on the shell
In my hand
To keep me from remembering
The scars from man