I cry

at everything
now sad 
movies
old songs
the memory
of my
father and
friends gone
too soon

it makes
me uneasy
and I
try to
hide it
from my
wife and
children who
always notice
but never
ask me 
about it

I am 
not ashamed
or confused
by it and
I am
reminded nightly
in flashbacks
and nightmares
that in
Afghanistan 
I felt
completely numb

after all
those soldiers
civilians and
children shot
dismembered
or killed

I remember
the amount
of blood
and the 
smell of
bleach used
to clean
the beds 
after we
removed the
bodies

I remember
an officer
telling us
about compassion
fatigue

I remember
thinking my
feelings were
just another
thing I
lost in
the war.

Apology

I used
to keep
a diary
when I
was in
Afghanistan 
I thought
it would
explain to
my family
what was
wrong with
me then
and now

but it
was only
filled with
cause and
effect IED
and amputation
gun shot
and wound-vac
helicopters and
blood

it never
came close
to explaining
how I
can want
both to
protect you
from all
of it and
how bad
I want 
you all to
understand

my fear
my nightmares
my panic
in crowded
rooms the
blood I
still see
on my
clothes the
nights I
can't sleep
and all
the time
I spend
apologizing
to you
for trying
to make
you my
therapist for
trying to
make you
understand

that the
only house
I wanted 
to burn
to the
ground was
my own

Matthew Borczon is a nurse and Navy sailor from Erie, Pa. He has published ten books of poetry the most recent being the Ghost Highway Blues through Alien Buddha press. He publishes widely in the small press when he is not busy with his wife and four children.