Theatre of War

We are dark tonight
but go live again tomorrow.
How I wish the thunder was applause.

I will breathe in deep and hold it.
Think of you, asleep in our bed.
Think of that hair, of those freckled arms.
Of those ankles around another's head...

So I won't care how the shooting goes.

There's not enough whiskey they can serve me.
Not enough aces of spades.
All the dances the dames do
to ease me head--
just head.
Easily forgotten in the sand.

All I need is a photo. A kind word.
I need that blood, so red,
to be blasted out of the mountain.

If we can end it, why not end it?
Isn't destruction just another rebirth?

I only used to be torn...

Now I am hot. And I stink. And I think
that there is more than lack of movement...

And freckled arms, if I never kiss you again,
never see that kid again,
never take those ankles for granted again...
know that I left
knowing there was
so much
more of you I craved,
wanted to soil and worship...

Know that I left hating that I was here.
And not there. Ignoring what I was meant to.

We are dark tonight
but go live again tomorrow.