Soldier
a gruff voice
over and over
right between my ears
duck
swim
crawl
shoot
shoot
louder and louder
my brain shakes
from the weight of
his cruel words

No
I say
in a clear voice that
does not shake or stutter
this surprises me
again I say it
No No No No
I will not do those things
I do not know how to
shoot a gun
probably point it at myself
I am a human
I am not a hammer

Listen
he pleads quieter this time
sit down across from me
let me show you my scars
look how my eyes water
look how my hands shake
I am human too
I do not know how
to be a hammer
I am too gentle
only know how to hurt myself
don’t look at me

Sat
down across from him
I avert my eyes
taking quick furtive glances
now and then
I catalog his messy hair
his cracked and crooked glasses
the bad teeth from refusing
to get braces again and again
the blood crusted around his nostrils
turns my stomach painfully
looking at his scarred arms and blunt fingertips I say
you’re no soldier

A
quiet and broken whimper
escapes him then
surprising us both
on instinct he reaches across
the table for my hand
he smiles weakly when I oblige
and murmurs
no I am a soldier
but not like them
I do not fight for
my country or for theirs
I fight for us for you

Understandably
this takes me by surprise
and when I look at him
more closely I realize he
is not wearing fatigues
we are dressed the same
except his clothes are
more tattered and old
he is me
only more haggard
and there is no familiar outline
of bandages
under his shirt

Smiling
sadly he pulls up his shirt
revealing crescent moon scars
where his ******* should be
the only familiar thing
about his chest and torso
are the ******* and stretch marks
free lightning tattoos
because even losing weight
time and time again
gain and lose
an endless cycle
doesn’t make the past fade

Again
I protest
saying we are not alike
I am not at war
this is all some sick joke
how can we be soldiers
without guns and
tightly laced combat boots
where are my dog tags
and the rapidly beating heart
where is the screaming
where is the war
where is the war

Standing
up he walks around the table
taking my face in his hands
shockingly soft fingers and palms
after all these cruel years
leaning his face closer
the brush of chapped lips
against cold ears
he speaks to my very soul
his words loosen my heart strings
quickens my breathing
he whispers
it’s all in your head

Now
it is my turn to shake
with weak knees
I fall against him
bury my face in his shoulder
breathe in my own musk
we stand silently
******* flush up against flat chest
and then he steps closer
melds with me and we are one
I can feel his heart beat alongside mine
I feel much older
utterly alone