Sometimes it only takes a sound, or a familiar smell, to send me down the road of PTSD.
That isolated road dotted with flashbacks and bumps that me feel like there may be shards of glass inside.
Feeling weak, nothing easily explainable, eyes swollen with tears intermittently rolling down my cheeks. There is no rhyme or reason, forgetting how to breathe.
Yes, I know tomorrow will be better but today the Warrior weeps.