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TB  Jan 1
twentythree.
TB Jan 1
I lost myself and I found myself.
I lost myself and I rebuilt myself.
And when I did not like what I had made, I rebuilt myself again.
I carved out, and uncovered, and restored, and outgrew.
And I, and I, and I.

And I still don’t have it perfect.
I’m still not who’d I’d like to be.
And my shadow still comes out more often than I’d like her to.

But I, and I, and I will continue to try.
Wordfreak  Sep 2017
Counting
Wordfreak Sep 2017
One round
In the chamber,
Thirty in the magazine,
One moment makes a lifetime,
Two seconds taken to breath.
Three brothers at my back,
Four wolves in the hunt.
Five miles to ruck before rest,
Six hours to sleep tonight.
Seven days left for another week,
Eight civillians lost as collateral.
Nine houses cleared without incident,
The Tenth is where they're waiting.
Eleven minutes for the firefight,
Twelve rounds taken to the legs.
Thirteen minutes until Medevac arrives,
Fourteen month recovery.
Fifteen minutes left before lights out.

Mag is half full.

Sixteen hours to rest and clean weapons,
Seventeen men play cards in the barracks
Eighteen minutes left during fire guard,
Nineteen year old soldiers miss their family.
Twenty minute call home to loved ones.
Twentyone shots over a white headstone.
Twentytwo streets left to clear before dusk,
Twentythree families bustle in the bazaar.
Twentyfour hours in each day in hell.
Twentyfive men craving cigarettes.
Twentysix reports of gunfire this morning.
Twentyseven combatants killed.
Twentyeight days left in deployment.
Twentynine years old at honorable discharge,
30 family members waiting to welcome you home.
31 days in every month spent in the devil's sandbox.

Click
Mag is empty.
Drop mag
Draw new mag
Load into well
Hit bolt release
*Continue fighting

— The End —