KIA
AWOL
Where have you been?
Light filters through
dusty barred windows.
Barren land.
POW
Where is your God now?
Screams of gunfire
fill the air with
sweltering heat.
PTSD
An elephant never forgets.
A soldier remembers
all too well.
Clink.
Metal on metal
as you run, escaping from the hellhole
that has been your home for the
past three months.
Bang.
Fire then ice tears through skin
and muscle as your bones cry out
in pain.
So close yet
so far.
Black.
It is dark all around you
and you hear voices.
For the first time in
what feels like forever,
English greets your ears.
Time.
It takes six months
to heal physically,
yet
the mental,
and emotional, wounds
are loath to close.
Question.
A year after the incident,
you are living with
an unlikely friend.
"If you were about to die,"
he asks,
"What would you say?"
Without thinking,
you respond.
"Please, God, let me live."
He scoffs, you grit your teeth.
You know he means well
when he says:
"Try and use your imagination."
You look him in the eye
and recall that night
from so long ago.
"I don't have to."
