bullets in brain cells
trenches twisted, turned.
his brains a battlefield,
but to hide it, he learned.

mind stands as a temple,
tongue rolls, a black sea.
she was never a fighter,
and neither was he.

she painted him skylines,
rainforests, black rain.
but the art on the paper
could not match his pain.

she danced on pianos
wrote him ten love songs,
he fell down much further
and dragged her along.

however it was not
towards her that he fell,
instead he careened into
mindless, deep hell.

so he pulled the trigger,
and ended his war.
left the young girl alone
just wanting him more.