what i did in the war, poem by Matt Borczon

its hard

to explain

to civilians

that my

gun was

locked up

in an iso

container

for the

whole time

I was

in Afghanistan

that I

did not

fight this

war I

worked in

a hospital

at the

craziest

point of

the war

but no

I did not

fight the

war

I watched

it from

the distance

of a

severed arm

watched through

the holes in

marines chests

and stomachs

through the

eye sockets

of children

shredded by

hellfire helicopters

but I

did not

fight the

war

I prepared

gauze for

wounds and

vacuums to

suction blood

I cleaned

dead bodies

for coffins

for planes

for home

for broken

families

I bleached

mattresses

between patients

and served

meals to

soldiers with

no hands

to eat with

but I

did not

fight the

war

I searched

for missing

limbs and

spoke with

angry village

elders and

was hit

by an

Afghan prisoner

for trying

to help

him stand

but I

did not

fight the

war

and it

wasn't until

I was in

Kuwait at

a stress

debriefing

that I

ever heard

the words

compassion fatigue

or secondary PTSD

so I came home

unaware of

how it

would feel

to hear

helicopters

at night

or how

nightmares

could make

me soak my

sheets with

sweat and

how panic

would make

me ruin

my children

or how I

could lose

days upon

days in

memories

keeping

the company

of ghosts

fantasizing

about my

own death

in order

to feel

like an

end was

in sight

but I

did not

fight the

war

I inhabited

the war

was forced

by blood

to adapt

by death

to adapt

by shock

and awe

to adapt

until the

day they

sent me

home with

no gauze

no bleach

no morphine

pump no

tool or

instructions

to readjust

to turn

it off

to forgive

or forget

so no

I did

not fight

the war

but I

am still

fighting

every single

day.

lets see what can I tell you as far as a bio, Graduated from Edinboro University with an art degree and no job prospects. Started writing back in grade school been at it pretty much ever since, joined the Navy reserve in 2001 went to Afghanistan in 2010 as a corpsman in the busiest combat hospital in the world at that time. Came home and tried to forget everything I saw. That didn't work. Eventually I started writing about it and that is how it all got from there to here. In my civilian life I am a practical nurse for a social service agency and I build cigar box guitars and cookie tin banjos for fun. My work has been in/on pressure press, busted dharma, dead snakes, big hammer, hanging loose and in the collection 100 poems by the soul collective. I am working on a manuscript of my war poems that I hope to get together some time before I die.