I’ve come back to this a soldier, the blood you extracted from my body now smeared stripes on my cheekbones.
But buckle in. Do I really need? -yes
A bullet proof vest inches thick. Barricades my bones and sewn into the bones of my torso with hope. but that’s only for in case you shoot me, again, in the left chest.
- then that’s only if you become the target. if you whisper your vulnerability into his eyes, again. and stand hopeless before it all.
No I cannot bare it one more time.
He never seen me hospitalised in the bed of a room so empty. ( a mind so empty, numb) So abandoned the nurses had left. So abandoned I was the nurse the doctor the therapist the healer. Doctor barely retrieved blood Nurse barely rose me back to my feet Therapist didn’t give forget. wouldn’t let me forget - what about it I loved because he had never found it in me. Then I am reminded again.
- so soldier buckle up the bare skin that can so easily be burned. buckle up in black.
I wear it in fear hesitation ilness and resentment to a repeat.
- better off safe than sorry
But safe now becomes a sorry to the soul for restraining.