Photo: Andy Falconer on Unsplash
They want to add more activity to his day. More interests. Better engagements. A hobby. A new skill.
They don’t understand.
He is fine during the days. It is the night that haunts him. Not the dark, but the solitude. The walls closing. The suffocating silence where his breath fills all the space till there is no air left. No room for words.
Then there’s the fatigue and how it erodes all his resistance. Lets the blackness in.
They offered medicine. Said it will help him fall asleep and stay asleep.
It did.
And it made it worse.
Now his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream and he cannot find the door to waking.
He feels mummified. Lost in the abyss of thoughts and memory.
The bombs. The mines. The child.
He couldn’t save him.
Guilt swallows all.
How could there be a dawn?
Note: Dedicated to all whose deepest wounds are unseen. May you find your dawn.
For the dVerse prosery challenge: maya angelou
The quote prompt: “his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream” from “Caged Bird” by Maya Angelou
Na'ama Yehuda 
The things that can’t be named…those are the deepest wounds. (K)
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Indeed. Thank you for this comment.
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Wow, Na’ama. This is so dark. And wonderfully written,
I saw the prompt and was tempted but I can’t see where I would go with it. Now that I’ve read yours, I see even less! Bravo.
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Thank you, Dale.
It is dark … and it is truth for all too many, including in some who are close to me, and carry unseen injuries from moral wounds that haunt them. I hope that one day there will not be such. …
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I cannot even imagine.
And I hope as well.
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XOXO
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I agree. Wonderfully done.
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Thank you. It was not a fun piece to write — seeing it speaks truth about too many — but if it got a message across, I am gratified.
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Well-done, Na’ama.
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Thank you, my friend.
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You are welcome.
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🙂
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Wow, dark. But very well done. I especially like *he cannot find the door to waking*, I have experienced that in the days of a repeated nightmare when I’d wake in my dream and know I was still dreaming.
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Yes, it is exactly the kind of experience I meant. Thank you! And … I’m sorry …
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🙂
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🙂
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The heaviness of grief and fear and guilt. PTSD in all its awfulness. Thank you for putting this one out there.
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Thank you Sarah. Knowing several people in my life who carry similar is sobering. I think it needs to be put out there … and I’m gratified if it was communicated.
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Bravo
Stay safe
Much💟love
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Thank you, gillena. You, too.
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Wow, at this time as I am grieving, this was especially poignant. Exquisite writing.
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Thank you, dear friend. I hope this did not add to your ache at this tender time. May you know no more sorrow … xoxo
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Very nicely done!
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Thank you, Dan!
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Very good write! Sometimes our past leaves us screaming!
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Thank you, Roth. Indeed, sometimes they are, and hopefully one day there will be less moral injuries, and less left screaming.
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Those of us who don’t walk those dark corridors find it difficult to understand. May those who walk there find peace.
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Amen, Beverly. Amen to that.
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A burden to bear… love how you brought in those memories in the end… it seems like he mostly fears himself
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Yes, and as many who struggle with moral injuries, he fears what he knows he might be capable of – in action and in inaction. War is not good for humans.
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