I lied
when I said
“I’ll be home soon,
don’t you worry about me”
I just didn’t want
to hear you
burst into tears
through the receiver
for it would also rain
down my cheeks
under the shadow of my helmet.
I lied
when I said
“Victory is ours”
after two nights and awake-up
the only thing that was ours
were the dead bodies
of my comrades
bullet holes looked like
constellations
a mixture of green and red
on the concrete sky.
I lied
when I said
“Prepare a feast,
decorate the streets,
the hero
is coming home”
when all I did was cower
behind a fort of soil
and barbed wires
shaking
barely breathing
white knuckles
tightly gripping the Garand
as they circled the area
like vultures
searching for prey
in a desert full of bones.
I lied
to keep you from worrying
about my safety
because dear,
no one is safe
in the battlefield.
I lied
as I took my oath
each word piercing my throat
like swallowing needles
as they pinned my uniform,
the entire collection
glistening in the
morning light
the clanging noise as I march
like church bells
ringing a haunting sound
echoing through the hallway
the weight of the carats
is nothing
compared to the weight
of my guilt.
I lied
when I told you
that I was a hero
when I came home
but son,
the real heroes
are six feet
under the stone.