finding little pieces of shrapnel buried in my brain
I can't pluck them out like I would Rose thorns in my skin
but I can feel them shake shake shake like beads in a baby's rattle every time I walk past a girl who can also stare right through the fabric of my being
Airport security always stop me, strips me and is puzzled to find that there no bombs in my bags or on my person.
But what they don't know is that I really could explode at any moment
Brimming over with words to say to you if I could ever see you again
But this time I want to really see you
Not sneak into a hospital
Run past doctors, surgeons, and your parents
Only to catch a glimpse of you being kept alive by modern medicine