and she sits,  

on this cold plastic

waiting room chair

her fingers itching

for a guitar

or a piece of charcoal

or anything at this point

because how is she supposed to forget

if she is not aided by alcohol

or music or some form of creation

and she cannot erase the battleships

from her mind

and the doctors tell her

that it's all in her head

and she understands that she is crazy

but she cannot forgive

the cannons

and she sinks lower in the hard ocean

as the shadows swallow her up

and she embraces the fire

and she stops fighting.

if they will not let her forget

she will forget herself.

The End

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