On the front lines of stress
Saw too many friends killed in this war
Escaping physical harm, I fell victim to the mental
Suffering choked the life out of me
Fear whispered words that pierced brain tissue
Impregnating that part of my mind which
Barked orders to the rest of me
I lay petrified in medical labyrinths, in
Halls of combat stress and relief
Too sick to move
Hands had to rip a hole in the side of my abdomen
Where large and small intestines meet
Placed a colostomy bag over it
So they could catch fear as it exited my body.
Daryl Horton is a Marine, poet, boxer from South Carolina.
Currently searching life and documenting experiences.
Stay tuned for more.
© 2005 Underground Voices