My pen…then ’til now.

This was written shortly after I visited the wall.  I was explaining to Santi that life wasn’t so great on this side of the grave.


Sometimes I still have trouble sleeping.
Sometimes I still can’t sit anywhere in a crowded room unless my back is to the wall and I can see all the exits.
Sometimes I look through people to the field of fire behind them.
Sometimes I can’t help myself, I have to be angry.
Sometimes the memories are so real, I sweat and feel cold at the same time.
Sometimes I think I’d better wake up before something terrible happens only to realize that I am not sleeping.
Sometimes I smell cordite…shit, piss & vomit too.
Sometimes my brothers visit me, and I know they are dead.
Sometimes I want to cry but don’t want my kids to see, so I hide and get angry instead.
Sometimes I think my co-workers, friends, associates, neighbor’s, family and everyone else are assholes, then I realize it’s me.
Sometimes I wonder what God was thinking.
Sometimes I just wish it would stop.
I am America.
I am Freedom
I am a veteran and I’d do it all over again in a fucking minute.

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