Somebody Shoulda Told Me
by Odin odin@aflx.com — Read all 3,869 poems by Odin odin@aflx.com
Watching CNN’s “Heroes” last night, I was reminded that war’s PTSD comes in many sizes and knows no limits. Yet, some confront it with a savage tenacity. What must it be like for a victim of PTSD to stare into a mirror and question?
Monday, December 18, 2017
Somebody Shoulda Told Me
They say
Vets are supposed to grieve war’s doings in stages.
A bit presumptuous, eh?
Just how is this assumed insight acquired?
Maybe,
Just maybe,
If they’d outlined the steps,
Both of my bereaved deployments
Might not have ripped heart and spirit
Into so many scattered pieces.
Maybe
I could have asked friends…
Weep with me?
Maybe
I wouldn’t have excluded them
These many months of loneliness.
But then,
Maybe back then I wouldn’t have accepted
Such fragile courage,
To double check my mags,
Make sure the chamber’s loaded,
Step cautiously and nudge the child.
Focus closer to her dead body.
Wipe my eyes clear.
Lift.
Question where to go.
Take another step forward.
Can’t help wondering...
When and how was I supposed to get war in graduated steps,
Its twisted euphoria of numbness
Some call “Just obeying orders”?
Such a make-as-you-go survival kit can be tortuously difficult.
Somebody Shoulda Told me
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Love ya!
Jane
PTSD has been portrayed many times in the past. For example, "Born On The Fourth Of July," that I could relate to so well. Recently, a man who I knew as an expert car modifier confessed to me that he could watch, "We Were Soldiers," because, "I was there."
I hope all of our stories and poems will eventually reach down into the lives of draft dodging politicians who ferment war and stop them in their tracks.
Ron