One, two, three
I count the tally marks
Lining my arm
Four, five, six
They're swollen,
Matching my eyelids
Seven, eight, nine
I'm losing sleep
And I'm losing places
To make my mark
Ten, eleven, twelve
I'm getting worse,
Much worse
Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen
I could go on
Until maybe
One-hundred
But I wouldn't want to
Bore you
With the scars lining
My battlefield
As I fight this
Never ending
War.
-e.w.