"Collateral damage" they say,
To soften the blows,
Keep the public at bay,
As empathy slows.

Numbers roll like a daily score,
Of lives that won't return,
Lost in battles and much more,
We're told not to discern.

Because they're merely "collateral damage,"
No names or faces that stick,
Easy for us to disengage,
Their stories, pain, and tragic.

But here inside, a love persists,
A wild and untamed flame,
Illogical, as it insists,
Through chaos and inane.

Seeing without sight, thinking though askew,
Feeling with a heart that's ruthless,
Choosing paths that others eschew,
In the realm of the reckless.

Self-serving, chasing its desire,
Ignoring the rest with ease,
Others' lives fuel its fire,
Consequences? A gentle breeze.

Yet, this love surges deep,
We're caught up in the tide,
Reduced to whispers, buried beneath,
As the pain churns, we subside.

Those quiet moments scream the loudest,
Echoing through our souls,
Shattered hearts bear the aftermath,
Of love's unforeseen toll.

Closure? Not sought, but stitches I crave,
To mend the fragments torn,
The damage inflicted, a two-way pave,
But your convenience is where it's born.

So, hold your guilt, your teary show,
But know it falls on deaf ears,
It means naught, just for show,
In my world of muted tears.

You thought you were special, a unique sting,
Yet, you're just like the rest,
Hurt inflicted with no giving,
Left with wounds on your own chest.