Friday, July 26

Guilt Trip


Guilt Trip

Returning from the war I locked away my gun,
Put away my uniform and yet another segment of me.
I was already damaged and not quite whole.
Thrown back into the world with bleak uncertainty.
Doubt funnels through my brain like a sieve
While I sit on a slab of ebbing confusing emotions.
A large oscillating wave of self doubt pressing against me,
It never leaves me even when I pretend to sleep.
I feel it’s weight upon me even now as I try to speak,
A cell-block encasing my heart even tho I try to break free.
I beg my maker everyday what will become of me?


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