PTSD (September 7)
just got back after spending
hours with a shovel
planting tomatoes,
instead of building
barricades,
and waiting to be attacked,
weapons greased and loaded,
grenades at the ready.
PTSD is strong tonight.
in the shower,
muscles aching, the words,
“That poor, kid…”
and “Looper, Oh Looper”,
come sobbing out of my lips,
and scream in my brain,
over and over.
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