Explosive

Land minds lying in an open field— I tear through With wounds that never healed. She said the hurt will make me real. All my life I’ve fought The urge to go off; I counted down for the pain to stop. But after a while it became the blank face; I gave it my name, my rank; I begged myself to look away. The hate Will make Or break Me In time. For now, I survive; I try To beat it out from inside. But the damage burns me alive. And without her, I see no end I set it off and start over again, Gouging the wreckage out of my skin. I wander off and detach – I am a fire waiting to catch; Standing red handed with the match Dying to circle back. I don’t need you or anyone else; My life – the stitch that never held. Nothing can hurt like what I have felt; No one can break me but myself.