Flooded War Memories
it was st. patrick's day,
went to another country to see you
met up with you at a hotel
it was like we were never apart
we talked like old friends,
old war-time veterans
who fought in a war together
who shared our life stories
while sitting in a trench together
waiting for a bomb to strike
it was st. patrick's day,
and everything seemed normal
and right
even though you lived far away
and even though we had different
life plans
it was st. patrick's day,
i remember you laying down
in the bath tub, like a little boy,
splashing and playing in the water,
not even flinching that i was there
talking to you, naked in the tub
it was st. patrick's day,
i wanted to get out, see the town
and you didn't want to move
content in a dingy hotel room
all i could think was that
it was st. patrick's day,
and i was in another country,
i wanted to get up and go
and i don't know what snapped
in you on st. patick's day,
but i was in a dress, ready to go,
and you knocked me down
i remember being knocked on to
one of those hotel beds
in my panty hose and dress,
and you strangled me
it was like you were in the war again
and you were fighting to the death
but i thought we were on
the same side
why are you trying to hurt me
and like a bull dog that finally listened
to the commands of their master,
you finally stopped, and
there i was, your ally,
the one that sat in the trenches
with you all those years ago
torn panty hose, bloody knees
i never thought you'd fight
one of your buddies, i swear
*
i got out and called for back up
in the hotel lobby
at the pay phone an older woman
came up to me, asking
if i was all right
her question stopped me
from hyperventilating
i looked down at my torn hose,
bloody knees
and I said,
i'm fine
*
i just knew i had to get out of there
before more shells fell
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Poesia :
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