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The Enemy

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I am naked in the midst of an unstoppable war
Bullets whip past my exposed soul
I know I can’t move---I don’t try

Bullets scream, within inches of my bare bones--I don’t feel them.

Finally, I release a dulcet whimper of Pain.

The cacophony of screams goes dead.
My ears refuse to hear.
My eyes fall to my chest, I am engulfed in crimson.

I lift my head to search for the enemy---I know you.
You stand, unwavering, dark eyed, staring.
Bullets leak from your loaded mouth.
I know you---you can’t be the enemy.
I watch, terrified to look away, as you unload your burning gun.
You flash that smile, the smile that brought me here.

I stand; frozen, praying that my eyes have deceived me.
Your face leaves behind dark eyes and you rush to my side.
I scream at you to leave,
but my voice is silent, replaced with an unwanted smile.

Your gun is gone yet always visible to me.

The war is over I tell myself.
Meanwhile your hands heal me; as if they weren’t the cause.

The moon stares in disapproving light, accusing me,
treating me like a child.

The war is over I scream at him, but he still watches.
I beg him to turn away every night.

I wake, hoping to see you, but you’re gone.
My eyes deceive me again.
Then I hear it; the deathly rumble of the war.

The war---the one that I convinced myself was over.
I scream for you,
fully aware of this never ending cycle.

I was wrong.
The war was never over, you just ran out of bullets,
and convinced me otherwise



When the bullet finally pierces me, I don’t feel pain---only relief.




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