PTSDreams

a soldier in World War II

sent to die a French death

in tattered uniform threads

my new red, white, and blue

feeling terrified, filthy like a rag

I went to sleep American

but dreamt I fought for another flag

trenches turned graves

filled with the horrified cries of war

I heard more than devout men

plead to G-d for no more

later I felt myself counting

each every breath

as I hoped to avoid capture

or at least a merciful death

and my wish was granted

while held in a bunker scape

I tried to choke a guard

while plotting my own escape

in a few seconds

I was shot dead

so imagine my surprise

at what happened next,

safely, I awoke in my own bed

layered by dried crusts of sweat

I needed more than a cigarette

back in the reality I had yet to accept

but not in the place I assumed

which I thought was a hospital room

I cried to grieve men of my platoon

inside a room all black

feels crazy to look back

a PTSDream when I

mourned imaginary men oversea

I only dreamt of war once

and once was enough for me