Post
I still look for planes
When I hear them
I crouch
Instead of sit
So I'm ready
I feel the hair on the back of my neck
stand up—
a threat
But I'm really just standing in line
at the grocery store
McDonald's
the gas station
I sleep
With a racked gun
Beneath my pillow
I check rear view mirrors
Every time the car stops
My six is vulnerable
because there is no one left to watch it
All still deployed
Or dead
or going to college
And here I am
Here I am.
Figuring out how to assimilate.
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