A short war story

by You Have My Word

She said I cannot

He said Baby, you can if you’ll let me

She said I cannot

He said Baby, you can if you’ll let me

She said I cannot go one more step farther than here with you

He said Baby, you can if you’ll let me carry you

She is collateral damage of a war that happened over 70 years ago, now their love must pay the price

He is a runaway soldier that didn’t finish his time, now cursed with Hiroshima for a wife

She is a mother without a child, the severed Achilles meant to hold the promise of another generation

He asks Doctor, is it me? Am I the problem? Is it my fault? Doctor mumbles something about radiation

She is not present, she is the ghost of a thousand others around the house

He floats around as a whisper, nothing more than a mist of himself

She is scared

He is sorry

She is angry

He is apologetic

He is guilty

She is grateful for him but doesn’t know how to say so

He doesn’t want to wake up tomorrow

She doesn’t want to wake up tomorrow next to anyone but him

He is broken

She is beautiful with maimed limbs and mournful love

He can’t move past his shame

She can’t move without him

He chokes whenever he says her name

She cherishes each syllable that reminds her she belongs to him

He said I cannot

She said Baby, you can if you’ll let me

He said I cannot

She said Baby, you can if you’ll let me

He said I cannot go on any longer knowing that I failed you

She said Baby, you can if you’ll let me forgive you

 

—–

This poem was inspired by a piece written by Kabomo.

Advertisements