Yesterday,
you were all I ever wanted.
You kissed my wounds
and they healed.

Today,
those wounds are scars.
Memories of you,
of the pain you caused me,
of how I always fought
for us,
of how you didn't.

Today,
I am putting my fists away.
All of my weapons
have been dismantled
and their scraps have been sold
in separate worlds.
They won't be put back
together,
like us.

Tomorrow,
You will search for the parts.
You will lead a failed attempt of attack
on a single wounded soldier
waving a white flag.