Soldiers Home

I've lived in the past. I've been tucked into the neat folds of time. I've torn myself into pieces making bullet points on this display. Line after straight line I spread out whats on my mind. And endless array of disarray, squinted tired eyes scan the pixels of the screen searching for the next step or just the meaning. The smiles and the laughs, the lifted eyebrows and gentle hands. You speak away and point to me, the tide rushes in. I stand in traffic with spite for every car, every light, everything. Wailing clocks and cool clear windows are everything. Placement, predicament, pattern, and persistence, life has lost it's luster, the brave are too brave to weep. No clouds, no stars, light the empty sky wrapped around jagged corners and man's venture to the sky. No soul, no love, slip through the spaces of darkness surrounding me. I might as well be back there fighting for my life, I don't want to leave my brothers behind. I want it to end, this cycle of pain. I want to feel useful, and whole once again.

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