War

On some days, my mind is a battlefield.

Two sides fighting over me,

Torn in a tug of war.

With both sides so strong;

the Rope itself breaks.

 

The pieces spell out W-A-R.

The silence drowning in the gunfire

Whispers

There is no scope for negotiation.

 

I try to run and run and run….

Without realizing

That my feet are tapping a minefield.

 

One bad move and boom.

It isn’t just the wounds on our bodies

That bleed.

 

Like every war there is bloodshed;

My sanity.

 There’s collateral damage;

All my time.

 

And my dreams?

They’re the orphaned children of this war;

Silently dying.

 My future;

A lifeless infant washed ashore.

 

Unconsciousness arrives disguised as comfort,

As if on a stretcher.

The screeching sirens;

My lullaby.

 

Maybe we’re all prisoners of our own wars.