Scared of Me

I have His peace but I don’t have my OWN.

Do you know how it feels like to be scared daily? To be scared of every living moment you have. And to think of things that you don’t even want to think of.

The result of the things that was done to you are daily nightmares you constantly fight from within.

Am I still safe? Is he going to do it again?

Is this going to work?

Am I right? Am I wrong?

What if I am wrong?

How did I even get to this situation when I know deep inside I am strong.

Can my inner strength be translated into action?

Why is my mind so clouded with so much worries and uncertainties?

Why am I scared to even wake up to the thought of, will I still be alive if I stay?

They call those that are like me, PARANOID. But who really is paranoid? Why do we even ought to think we are when paranoia is clearly a result of a something traumatic.

If trauma can be explained in words, let me be silent.

If situations like mine can be express in simple terms, allow me to be the first one to experience that. Tell me, how?

How okay, is okay enough? How fine, is fine enough?

When will the battle end?

Or is it going to?

Who is going to surrender? Who is going to lose?

If there’s a winner, let it be who?

When that alone, you want it to not be YOU.

Confusing, yes it is. That’s what trauma gives you. A constant battle between you against you.