I understand that life is full of goodbye’s. I’m not too good to not suffer them. I look around at the wreckage. I stand still and try to take it in. My mind seems to be more civil and rational about what needs to be done to start and clean up the battlefield of life. My heart seems to hesitate at action. My heart is a coward. I’ve fallen prey to its fears deep rooted from the shell shock of all the conundrum and confusion life brings to war. As I stand under the night sky looking up to the free stars that shine there light I can’t help but feel the cool dark space that surrounds me like an enemy terrorist trying to get me to cave and tell them my next move at all cost. I won’t talk! Seems like my heart has a bit of courage left. I want to flee to a land wear I can learn to walk instead of crawl with the injuries war have left behind on my riddled body. Maybe this is what builds a soldier stronger? Being pealed back at like layers on an onion. You hit the core only to find it’s most bitter taste?
I want a fresh start.