The memories,
Those awful dark times
Will always play.
But this is my prize.
I simply cannot throw it away.
As I glance at it, the pain cuts through me
The hurt washes over me .
Drowning. Suffocating.
I hold it in my palm,
Twiddle it around loosely between my fingers
Flashbacks. Nightmares. Distorted images and figures -
Like a film playing in my mind
Throw it!
No, keep it!
It's yours.
That smooth silver-grey 2 inches of metal
Cool to the touch.
It was your friend. It was your enemy.
It's your pride and your glory.


**© maria.who

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