war

it is only a war

if the fire stops

raining

when a white flag

is raised

and the fallen ones

retreat

and their captors

drink whiskey.

i must be battling

a storm of God’s wrath -

one that will

never end

because the enemy -

it is my own mind.

i am tired of fighting.

i want to dismantle

my flesh

like armor

place my bones

neatly in a sheath

leave myself behind

because the voices in my head

sound like gun fire

and the smoke

makes my throat close.

where do warriors find refuge

from themselves?

where do i surrender?

who will take my heart

because i cannot keep it

in my chest anymore.

if i wield a pistol

and fire it

through my soul

so i will bleed out

on the ground

will i die

undefeated?