The Flame of PTSD

Written by Esme Shane

I strike the match, watching the flame grow larger.
I feel the heat on my hand and my face,
I see as the match head is consumed by fire
I flinch as my fingers are seared by pain
I feel ashamed that I was so forgetful
I should know how the flame of PTSD can hurt
I feel humiliation that I was so careless again.

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