Poem: Band-Aids and Bullet Holes

A lifetime of scars
that no one sees
(I never did develop
a thick skin).

Injuries that go untended
because they don’t bleed
(on the outside).

Battle exhaustion
that no one will ever
understand or make
allowance for
(what happens behind
closed doors stays
behind closed doors).

A war fought without
resources or
support
but which will kill me
all the fucking same.

But today, a temporary
ceasefire –
we have guests.

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