bullets~

numbed against the reality, I find myself.
Your words are the lingering
bullets painting the walls,
with the blood of Boot Camp beginners.

~

Machanics are far too tenichinal for
your taste,
but the taste is too sweet for you to resist.
Never have I wanted you to stay within
these walls,
but now,
as you insist on taking flight,
I am the one stepping on your cape.

~

Numbed against the reality,
I find myself.
Your words hit me harder,
than a bullet ever will.

Author's Note

For my brother, leaving for the Navy in several months.