Three PTSD Poems II – Matthew Borczon



in Afghanistan
the toilets
had no seat
and the
curtain on
the shower
was transparent
but you
would forget
to feel
as you
stood in
100 degree
heat under
scalding water
to wash
the blood
off your

My wife

asks why
I still
smoke if
I associate
it with
my days
in the
war and
had never
before I
went to
and I
try to
tell her
we were
tired 12
hour shifts
a hot
shower and
a circle
of guys
smoking and
trying to
think of
to say
some days
we just
smoked and
sat like
dead men
and now
all these
years later
I’m still
tired still
a dead
man smoking
still  thinking
about everything
you can’t
wash off
at the
end of
a shift.

Only once

in the
time I
was in
my sister
in law
sent me
a bottle
of whiskey
as mouth
wash because
we were
not allowed
to drink
while deployed
it came
the same
day Brian
got a
bottle of
sun tan
lotion also
filled with
booze so
we sat
outside drunk
beneath a
hundred thousand
stars talking
about everything
it was
the only
time we
ever admitted
to being
afraid the
only time
we ever
that the
blood was

Matthew borczon is the Author of a clock of human bones available through the yellow chair review. and the upcoming Battle lines through Epic rites press. He publishes widely in the small press.


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