Ptsd All Thats Left of Me

All That Is Left of Me PTSD By Jude Kyrie I sit in the dark barroom. The smell of whisky sings like a dirge. It’s a room where hearts go to die. I know why I am here. Its my burden. I know why she left me ….I know why I remember the wedding. I pull a creased photo out of my pocket. My God she is beautiful. I must not go there anymore. I am out of tears now just the pain stays. I look at myself in the picture. So young and handsome. My uniform white and gold I am the brave soldier she always wanted. We look like movies stars. Then I went to war I can still see the carnage. The roadside bombs Children bleeding in the streets. Women crying for dead husbands and sons. They followed me home like ghost. And when I slept next to her beautiful body. They came in my nightmares. And made me scream and weep like a child. I lost my soul In that war. And one day I lost her as well. The bartender leans forward and shows her cleavage. But all I want is another drink. Perhaps one more Will stop me thinking. AUTHORS NOTE TO ALL WHO SERVED AND SUFFER WITH PTSDw