Posted by Happyflower on April 1, 2008, at 17:44:59
PTSD
There was something about the way he looked
Into me that last time that sears fear
Into my soul like turpentine burns a
Torn cuticle, like a veterans eyes that
Cant forget those he killed long ago.
My birth was his lucky charm out of
Vietnam. Karma can be so cruel.Hidden in the woods till you came home
Was my protection from that psychopaths
Hot light bulb interrogations that
Cauterized innocence of a child
Wet horizontal bed of the frightened.You didnt know till the end her evil
Insanity that hastened your death too.
While I spent a lifetime of being
Your conscientious objection coup.
poster:Happyflower
thread:821036
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/write/20071223/msgs/821036.html