Woodchipper.

Last week, I looked up, and into the mirror, for the first time in a long time.

Who did I see?

What did I see?

The Other Side.

The Non-Civilian Me.

No emotion.

No happiness.

No sadness.

No bitterness.

No desire.

No shame.

No joy.

Desensitized, to everything.

Unable to feel a thing,

hatred for nothing,

bitterness towards nobody.

joy for nothing.

Black box.

Dead zone.

Place where nothing grows.

Is this what I wish for myself?

Of course not.

I am incapable of Desire.

Nothing left, to Desire.

Night.

Day.

Arret.

March.

Sleep Today,

Maybe For Just A While.

Here Today,

Gone Tomorrow.

Gone Today.

Maybe.

Maybe,

Here Tomorrow.

For whom, or for what, shall I, Desire?

No need to ponder such trivialities.

Gone Today.

Gone, Tomorrow.

Look into the mirror,

see my reflection.

Empty shell,

blazing sun,

shotgun house,

no windows here,

straight shot through,

shadow is cast,

beyond the gates.

Portal,

brick facade,

link, to the outside world,

silent shell,

standing,

towers above.

Only, bricks, rubble, and mortar.

Sleep Today.

Gone Tomorrow.

Onward.