its3am
Do not question the power of firepower, and do not question the fire within the dedication of firepower. Perhaps you have questioned from time to time the rush of blood in your veins, the feeling of being alive, the pounding of your chest as you break free from a narrow escape- in the break of a war. But have you ever questioned the sorrow of losing a loved one, a friend, a companion? Have you ever questioned the nagging in your head as you wonder, oh wonder, when it will be you- and not your mother, father, sister, or brother- that will be the victim of the day lying face down motionless on the cold ground surrounded by a pool of blood? Or perhaps encountering someone who you do not dare to get to know, or feel empathy for- in fear that he may be dead within the next few hours? Or perhaps, when you realize you have finally gone mad, for you do not feel the pain nor fear when looking straight down at a dead corpse? Or when on a normal day at work, when all is over, you find yourself casually counting the number of people you have killed, and finally realize, that all will never be over- not until you are over? And so it's over, as are you.
A noise to make you hear, a noise to make you look, a noise to let you know that although you may claim to have let me go, you still care.
He see me. He analyzes me. He judges me. He knows me- at least he believes he does. But he doesn't know the half of me. He underestimates me, but he has seen me for only two years and twice a week and one hour a day. He sees one side of me and only one side of me, but I am so much more. There is so much you don't know, and yet you are so certain. Why are you so confident? I hide myself from you, and I hide my knowledge from you, because what you see of me doesn't define a single cell on my skin. And yet, I care. And yet, it hurts.
writing since 2017 · 3 entries · 3 days shown up
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noisequestionedhidecarequestionfirepowerbloodbreakwonderfeardeadrealizefinallyanalyzesjudgesleast