Hold the needle tightly to stitch up the gashes -
every day is a war raging in your veins (and that’s okay).
There’s nothing to cling to except the weapons
you’ve swiped from fallen soldiers (like you) and they shake you
like an earthquake every time you use them
but you keep using them to get through the night (and that’s okay).
Explosives rattle your bones and the foxholes you’ve dug
aren’t enough of an escape to block out the things that rain down on you.
This is a warzone, a battlefield, a nightmare that can hurt you
and that won’t let you go no matter how many times you tell yourself
just wake the fu*k up; wake up, wake up, wake up.