PTSD

Little drummer boy,
you got your own lil beat.
What happened to you?
Tragically scarred.
Sitting in the corner,
Father Wounds deep.
Trauma.
You are so sweet,
who did this to you?
Makes me scream at this world.
You helped me heal.
God picked you.
And now you are sick.
Yes touched. Gifted,
but does not embrace.
Little boy...you've been
playing in my sandbox,
The whole time.
And the connection is unreal.
My ying yang, somehow.
And someone hurt you,
So you fear me.
This world makes me sad.
Who hurt you so bad?
Let me at them!
Because I dont think it was me...
But I paid the price.
All I was, was in love with
a beautiful man...
one with walls.
I said "I am in love with you."
He says "She was escalating..."
Does any of this make sense?
What fear caused this,
massive divide?
Assumes me deadly, and a latte not.
But I want to know everything bad that ever
happened to you, I want to know your
whole life.
But I never get to.
Because Adam I make you up.
It would be cool to know the real.
It would make my second book amazing.
But I dont get to...because someone fukn hurt you.
Well I been hurt plenty...
And God used a Real Adam to take it from me,
and leave it in the past.
No more abuse.
Healed PTSD.
Recovery.