War Wounds

The cuts are so deep the bones of my ancestors are bleeding

It feels as though for one hundred years I’ll be weeping

I’m surprised when I look and there’s no knife in my chest

The idea of eating food is disgusting and impossible to digest

Best not to sleep or the nightmares will come

Yet should I want rest thoughts are too loud to even get some

I have been stripped bare and flogged with your rage

Left as a pile of rags to be burned, ignited with a page

Your words set pages of our story aflame, barely even written

Yet to my grave I’ll carry this heavy heart so smitten

You said heart and soul, until we die but now you just say goodbye