The Aftermath

War has a way of seeping through your pores down to your core

It knows every intimate detail of you even if you cover up

It weaseled its way into the places the shrapnel didn’t

Scars remain to taunt you with the constant memory of the pain it inflicted on your skin, your soul, your mind

It can be worse than a fire alarm, waking you up in the middle of the night with startling vivid images of the battle you swear was still being fought

Once you manned the frontlines on different soil now you man the frontlines of a different soul

They promised you the war was over but the brain battle is eternal

Nothing goes in the order it happens; the flashbacks are discombobulated like the damage left by a bomb

War hurts and harms more than helps.