Time of year, breaking news of overseas conflict, wind blowing a certain way…whatever the trigger

There is no telling when it is going to strike

Are they alive or dead?

Is that pain real or echoes from pain long ago that

resurface with a memory?

It feels like I’m being held hostage by my mind

Doesn’t matter what day, time, or year it is…the anatomy of my flashbacks

Are those smells real or is that a smell from a place and time

when I was being held against my will?

Am I really hearing the sounds of helicopters, planes, cicadas or birds?

Or it that the sound coming from a place that no longer exists and

should never be talked about?

Then it passes and I pull myself up the rope

Out of the clutches of PTSD and the skeleton hands of the past that

keep trying to pull…

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