My past trauma refuse
to rest, it reflect on every
face I glance at! Dear! Dear!
I fear every stare I get might
flash back the horrors I passed.

Unsettled and insecure I
roam the streets. I feel
lost in a world of vultures.
Without cultures nurturing on the weak.
Week after week it feels bleak
as memory peak and leak.
Paranoia strikes and I feel like a freak
Emotions storm to break
Terrific I was made to fade away in gloomy path without voicing out my thoughts.

Phobia arrest my heart
When I trudge past a group of gang I shiver and my heart pound out.
My eyes are vigilant like
a security guard at night.
I peer behind my bloody eyes
I glint at horrific and terrific past.
My soul is torn and tortured.
fractured I live in a casket of my dreams fear it screams shrouded by death.

By:Melvey koka (the surgical poet)
@Copyright reserved
Sonador (the dreamer)
© Melvey koka