Something I wrote recently while processing my official C-PTSD diagnosis. Graphic Designed for a Poster so might be difficult to read on phone, it reads:
Hyde Among Shadows
Not Jekyll’s Hyde, the tale you’ve read,
Not science born, nor potion fed.
This Hyde is born of pain’s dark truth,
In hearts of children, robbed of youth.
It came to guard a frightened boy,
A shadow shield, a cruel decoy.
He whispered strength, he took the blows,
And with each wound, this monster grows.
The boy became a man one day,
But Hyde had never gone away.
In love he longed to be a shield,
Yet Hyde struck out, and truth revealed.
For those who fear the hands that hold,
Will seldom feel protection’s role.
The man had wished to heal, defend,
But Hyde brought terror in the end.
He saw it first within his kin,
Reflected scars carved deep within.
The shadow he had called his friend,
Became the wound he could not mend.
Yet through the cracks a spark still burned,
A truth the man at last had learned:
To fight him only fed the flame,
But knowing Hyde could break the chain.
So hush, dear child, and mark this lore,
A Hyde may wait behind your door.
When pain is fed, he rules your way,
But faced with truth, he fades away.
Beware the beast that pain provides,
He grows in silence, there he hides.
But one who dares the depths inside,
May find their strength and tame their Hyde.
