He is a soldier who has forgotten the horrors of war

He is a soldier forgotten by the people

He is a man who has forgotten how to love, forgotten the entity of love itself

Dreams haunt him, he tells the therapist, the man in white

Dreams keep him from sleep, he tells his wife

Dreams are there for you to reach, his daughter tells him

Dreams are to be shattered, he tells his son

Don't dream, they beg of him as he sleeps

Don't sleep, the doctor says to him

Don't let me sleep, he begs of them

Let me be, Let me stay, Let me

He asks to stay, He asks to be, He never actually does


In a Dream, he awakes

In the Dream, he asks

For People, for Love, for things he's never understood why he wants

He asks for his son, to apologize

He asks for his wife, to apologize

He asks for his daughter, to thank

He asks for his parents, to love

He pauses

And understands why

His parents - to love

His parents, whom he has loved

His parents, who have not loved

His parents, who had not wanted

His parents, if they could even be called that

And so he cries


In the World, he wakes with tears unshed

In the World awaits his children

In the World is his sleeping wife

The World is not his


War brings back memories better left forgotten

War brings back raised scars, ugly from mistreatment

War brings back tissues of skin, fissures unhealed

War isn't His

War is his

He owns the war inside of him

His war is his own

His other war is also his own

His comrades are his, His men are his

They are his to keep and he is theirs to haunt

And they know not to let go

They know better than to let go

He knows better than to let them go

They are his mistakes, they are his salvation, they are his punishment

He can't let them go

Just like he can't let his wife go


She was a sweet person

Red lips, cherry lips

Apples hanging upon high cheeks,

Ripe for picking

She was beautiful

She is beautiful

She cannot be ugly to him, she is beautiful

She was wonderful, is wonderful

She reminds him to take his days one at a time

She tells him to walk slowly and not any faster

She places his clothes by his bedside every morning he awakes

She nurses him when he is half delirious with fever

She cards gentle fingers through grayed hair when he falls asleep on the couch

She is beautiful

She was beautiful

She was

She Was

She Was

He didn't know it, didn't realize it

But he did Love

He loved her, he did

He still does


His daughter comes by every so oftern

Morning, Night, Winter, Summer

Fall wind blows harshly against his skin

He ignores it with the ease of a man

who Spent days in grime and mud, gunpowder and sand blowing about

He forgets again

He asks her, What Time

She answers, Noon

Vague, all too Vague

Nothing Clear anymore

Nothing

Nothing

Nothing

Where is son, where is he, he asks

He forgot, again

She purses thin lips, too thin what has she been doing to her health

Away, she answers

Away, he repeats, a question

Heaving breaths, shaking shoulders, she takes minutes to answer

Gone, she says

Gone, he repeats blankly, as if uncomprehending

Gone, she repeats

Her eyes shine

And so he apologizes

But he forgets

So he apologizes

And apologizes

And suddenly heaving sobs are stuck in his old lungs

His chest cavity prominent for all to see

And he forgets

Because he can't stand to remember


Love- no, not right

Hate- not right either

He forgot


He is who he is

He is a man

A man who has forgotten love

A man who has chosen to forget love

A man whose only daughter is not of blood relation

A daughter whose husband is wasting away six feet under

He is a man who has forgotten

Forgotten his wife

Forgotten his war

Forgotten his son

And grasps for that war in him

That will in him to battle,

To fight

To live

But he has forgotten

His parents he has forgotten

His wife he has forgotten

His son he has forgotten

He is

But he is already long gone

This World is not his

He is