Submitted by: Brenda Bush

Category: Poetry

Hope
She looks like anyone else in the bar.
She sits there, drinking, trying to numb the scar.
Get over it. Pull your head out. Is all she can think.
She downs it and says, “I’ll take one more drink”.

How much does she have to drink for the sounds to go away?
I want to get better
I don’t want to get better
I have hope
I want hope
I just want it to go away

She hears the explosion again in her head from that day.
“Hey, can I buy you a drink?” Maybe this guy will make it all go away.
She looks up. “Sure”. Dirt, dust, she has to wash it down.
Her buddy was dead. She is the talk of the town.

How much does she have to drink for the sounds to go away?
I want to get better
I don’t want to get better
I have hope
I want hope
I just want it to go away

She leaves with the guy. Get your shit together. Don’t you have any self-respect?
Say no once in a while. Why can’t she let it go? What else can she expect?
Morning comes and she looks up to the sun. Today is the day. One step at a time.
She knows she can do it, but it is an uphill climb.
How much does she have to drink for the sounds to go away?
I want to get better
I don’t want to get better
I have hope
I want hope
I just want it to go away

I have hope

About the author:

Brenda Bush is retired Air Force and currently, works at the VA. There are many of these stories, and she is trying to get them all down. These are stories of pain that need to be told.