And sitting crossed legged here
in the middle of the sideline
in the aftermath
of the war keeps me still
this silent fight
being fought on opposite ends
of the battle lines
wears me to the core
leaves me defeated
weather worn and sore
our casualties worse for wear
while we dance around what was
this pressure cooker silence
needs to linger a little longer
the silence is deafening, defeating
it is making me strong.
Your white flag changes
Everything
Nothing