the flowers died on monday
the clouds cried on tuesday
the sky screamed on wednesday
the sun dimmed on thursday
the stars hid on friday
mother nature weeped on saturday
the earth spun on on sunday

"That's so cute. You think you're scary.
But mister, I've seen scary-
and you ain't got his smile."

He felt his brothers arms around him (a fight, was it, or a brotherly embrace? Either way, it suffocated).

the world should have protected you;
instead, you have been asked to protect it.
what an HONOR
what an INJUSTICE.

Stop looking at me like that,
with pity in your glassy dead eyes.
all I am to you is a tragedy, right?
Stop it.
Stop ******* looking at me like that.
Do you hear me?

I will break you with my bloodstained teeth.

" do not misunderstand me; when I call myself a shell
what i mean is -a used up bullet casing.
As in, the aftermath of something lethal and horrific.
As in, an echo of inflicted evil that seeps into everything ."

"This is an apology
for the things I had to say about us, to get over us.
I feel most like myself
when I am washing crimson blood stains
off my hands in the shower;
and I hope
whatever is eating you alive does it as slowly as possible.
I know it doesn't sound like it,
but this is a love poem,
this is a love poem,  this is a love poem

until it isn't anymore."

unclench your fists, my love, the war is over now.
(i've forgotten how to uncurl my fingers from the trigger.)
be gentle, my love, the war is over now.
(i don't remember what it's like not to have gunsteel in my bones.) come home, my love, the war is over now.
(i'm back at the place i left but home is gone where i cannot find it.) sleep, my love, the war is over now.
(the war follows me into sleep. i'm afraid i'll never leave it behind.) kiss me, my love, the war is over now.
(my fingers still drip red and i do not want to stain you with them.)

teach me how to be at peace again