The Good Soldier

After the war
When all was quiet
The words stopped
Once they were weapons

I handwrote you letters
That kept me alive
While bullets borne of anger
No, frustration
Floated through me
Leaving marks not yet exposed
Until the time was right
For the pain to strike
Many months
After the war

Blood carried itself inside
And was alright for a time
Despite the ignorance of direction
Then the words began anew
The holes spoke burning through
And it all flowed out
Stole out to lose its warmth
The place it knew
The place it knows is home

But war returns
And I can't block the echo
The hollow of myself
Nor would I want to
Because you would escape
And I, your prisoner
Would be unknown