HAUNTED A Poem of PTSD

The war has followed me home.
It  penetrated my skin like a nerve gas.
Nobody could see it but it was there.
It sits by my feet like a dog.
When I go to bed with you
It lies between us keeping us apart.
I try to scrub it from my skin
In the shower, but it won’t come off.
Like a heavy breathing crank call
It pants in my ear as I sleep.
Sometimes it shows me how strong it is
And holds the front door shut
and I cannot open it to go outside.
At night just before bedtime
It passes me a handful of meds
I take them and swallow them
But I never ever look 
straight into its  eyes.

To all that served
may peace find you once more.
jude