That is not me, it’s just your PTSD.
Loving you enough to stay But not giving what you need To feel heard, seen, and understood And also safe, warm, better, and smooth That is not me, my darling That is not me. Unfortunately for both of us That's just your PTSD. I don't know, I must admit What triggered you so bad To live so fast and run so far And so hard to shut you down Was it my touch, my blue, my words? Or maybe my silence or mixed thoughts? Whatever the thing was, my baby That is not me. It never was and n