Simple things become simple problems.
Soon, no one cares about the spilled coffee
On their fresh and clean camo uniform
That covers and wraps us like a straight jacket.
We don't irritate over matching socks
According to the fade pattern of wear.
If we have a clean pair to abuse that day,
Then we can receive more needed rest.
Instead, I worry about stressful dangers
That I did not even know would exist
In my world of a has-been, lost athlete.
Dangers that some were not prepared for.
Clueless and on alert for the next IDF;
Praying to a God that it wont hit near
While I walk alone in the dark mist.
Persistently having a contingency plan.
My triggers expand as I see the locals
Burn my flesh with uninvited stares.
Some are unlucky and are violated
With what should never be forced upon.
Yes, I can tell you I will make it home,
But not as the Woman you may want.
Broken and confused is what I get,
As do you.