I’m alive in heart and mind, a man among so few; it was a lonely art out in the cold dark dark.
I burned your words, I breathed them in, I buried them as seeds where those trees had been. And deep in my skin.
I wrote your name, I spelled it out. I whispered it into my hands as a prayer: a testament there.
To all of you that’s part of me, is part of me in you? All I can do is hope that it's true.
I wander and I walk about the torn and tattered earth of myself.
It doesn’t help that war has placed inside of me an ocean, a ravine in between my words and their meaning.
The man I was, the man I am, the one I want to be are all above me and out of my reach.
Though I survived, I’m alive, I’m a casualty of your love and war, and nothing more.
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