The Deer

The narrator of this poem has a case of post-traumatic stress. The narrator compares himself to a deer to show how he could be strong, but now is always skittish like deer can be.

I have been changed,
although I'm not sure if it's for the better.

My mind is always jumping from place to place.

Every bang, pow, and pop is a time machine
that brings me back to sand and sun.
The pain of memories severe
cut me more than any bullet ever could.
At least there,
I knew someone had my back.

Here, I'm as skittish as a deer.

I am a deer,
always running and terrified to look back.
I'm being chased,
although not by gunman anymore.
Every time I close my eyes,
the past comes rushing in.
To watch your brothers fall to the ground
is to fall yourself a thousand times.

It is unbearable to live this way.

They say that change is good,
but I don't think I agree.

Author's Note

This is very free verse, so ignore grammar and such.