Your body is a minefield. Barbed and razor wire engulf me in each hug. Cut and torn and ****** I enter the war zone of past heartache, heartbreak, broken bones, and souls. Bodies lie scattered across the cracked dry ground, tears shed too late to save yourself from one more casualty. Sweat glistens off my ***** brow. My heart pounds within my chest as bombs go off around. With each thunderous roar and shaking of ground I force myself to run the distance of history itself. I fall. Crawl my way through muddy emotions to the epicenter of this full-raging battle. My blackened, *****, grief-torn nails reach, with one last dying breath, to touch your radiant soul.



*January 13, 2013