living like this has brought me to this

PTISD
by Matt Freire

if i had to choose between a rock and a hard place i would choose the rock
to knock myself out with
for even only a few hours
escaping this for just awhile
hoping this will pass
i don’t want to pass out in a hard place
that just doesn’t sound fun
but i am in a hard place
and i feel faint

ive been foul, disgusting, rotten, grotesque
the presence i'm giving off is one inhuman
i have become a different person
i actually don’t consider myself human
i'm some type of vile creature who prays on the innocent and unsuspecting

people don't want to be around me
people i don't want to be around

i make a conscious effort to stay in solitude these days
a recluse i've turned into by necessity
i can’t control my violent outbreaks anymore
i never thought i'd come to this
i always thought myself a better man
maybe standards were unrealistic
maybe i didn't put everything into factor
or factor everything
too illogical for me to achieve
now as society is out of reach
because i devolved into something
that i can’t quite word

i am the type your haste is a must

i am the type you flee with child in hand
when i enter the room you better put your ear muffs on
because i'm vicious
i will attack you
i will show no mercy
attacking man woman and child
this matters not to i
at this
the current state of my life

the army has a large part to do with this
war has a huge part to do with this
i have a ginormous part to do with this
living like this has brought me to this

i don't like it when it’s quiet
i know the horrors that creep in the quiet
like masked ninjas throwing blades and poison darts
i don't like it when its loud
it creates discomfort
the noise wakes me up at night
and it tears me up at times
even though that’s hard to admit how odious i have become

because i've never teared in the silent of the night before
like this before
i've never had to keep moving trying to get away from myself before
like this before
i can’t stand myself
before after or during
like this no more
i'm a nasty horrible evil
i will never be able to forget the things that i did
for sure
the people i did them to
not forewarned
it makes my hair fall out
and then want to burn my clothes
the air is torn
scrub my hands till they bleed clean
to get this horrid off my corpse because i am beyond the stench of death

can there be a cure to this
i was not always like this
and i cannot live like this
i can handle it while i'm here in afghan
for a bit
but in the states
in society
my kind is not welcome
my kind is not asked
but poked with a long stick to leave
great shame i've become
great unease i've caused myself and those around

borborygmus like no other
when i burp it taste like vomit
yes i can actually taste my burps
and if you were within a 15 foot radius you could too
i can even chew on my burps as if it were vomit flavored oatmeal jelly fish
with chunks of goat flesh and MREs
and that can not compare to
the methane that i produce
and the toilette food
i care not to describe
for i have self diagnosed myself with PTISD
putrid traumatic intestine sewage disorder
or maybe disease
i don't know it’s hard to think
i'm writing this from my porcelain island of relief and discomfort
with the door open
for being enclosed with myself right now is not an option