Being in
the chaos
of the storm,
no other part of me
survives until tomorrow,
relishing an execution.
Shrapnel and suicides,
concussions and grenades,
this war is just in my mind,
but I’m taking it out today.
.
Suffering in silence
is so boring.
What about
sharing it with a crowd?
I’m only warranting
another strong prognosis,
looking out for myself.
.
We are such strange creatures,
so easy,
we run and hide,
but given
the right incentives
and we’ll run
into the fire
and laugh about the bullets.
So strange,
it’s like we’re made
to thrive in chaos.
Our bodies
and our minds
slowly heal.
.
What do we become
when all is said and done?
How does it feel
to be real
in the heart of destruction.
HG – 2021
