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The last time I saw you,
I begged for
Stillness and silence
From the questions causing
Tremors in my head;
And for a split second,
They obliged.

After which they morphed from
The whimpers of a lovesick girl
Into an army of
Screaming and indignant women.
They flooded my mouth,
And clamoured against
The barricades that were my teeth
Held in a tight, fake smile.

I could feel my tongue
Straining to replicate the
Echoes of the questions
That had been seared onto
It's surface.

“What is this?”
“Is it supposed to hurt this much?”

I can't possibly let them out, can I?
So I chew, and swallow and
Chew
And
Swallow, and
Wince at its rancid acidity.

But they are relentless,
For I feel their sharp words
***** against the backs
Of my eyes.

They substituted tears,
And filled my eyes to the brim,
In the place of
A smile that never reached them.

I think you should
Acknowledge my tears now,
Its time I asked you a few questions.
 Jul 2017 Taylor N Culp
Enygma
1945.
 Jul 2017 Taylor N Culp
Enygma
I
I lied
when I said
“I’ll be home soon,
don’t you worry about me”
I just didn’t want to hear you
burst into tears
through the receiver
for it would also rain
down my cheeks
under the shadow of my helmet.


II
I lied
when I said
“Victory is ours”
after two nights and a wake-up
the only thing that was ours
were the dead bodies
of my comrades
bullet holes looked like
constellations
a mixture of green and red
on the concrete sky


III
I lied
when I said
“Prepare a feast,
decorate the streets,
the hero
is coming home”
when all I did was cower behind
a fort of soil and barbed wires
shaking
barely breathing
white knuckles
tightly gripping the Garand
as they circled the area
like vultures
searching for prey
in a desert full of bones


IV
I lied
to keep you from worrying
about my safety
because dear,
no one is safe
on the battlefield


V
I lied
as I took my oath
each word piercing my throat
like swallowing needles
when they pinned on my uniform,
the entire collection
glistening in the
morning light
the clanging noise as I march
like church bells
ringing a haunting sound
echoing through the hallway
the weight of the carats
is nothing
compared to the weight
of my guilt


VI
I lied
when I told you
that I was a hero
when I came home
but son,
the real heroes
are six feet
under the stone.
long time no post
 Jul 2017 Taylor N Culp
Eiram N
harrowing
brown-eyed
darting into corners,
sweet stories
yourself
don't see
in the luster
of irises
forbidding intensity
stole twinkle,
kaleidoscopic looks and
now there's only
a testy glint left.

— The End —