you can take an inch, but the next mile- that's something else entirely

you can fight, you can maim

you can kill in the name of self defense

but that doesn't change anything

you'll be haunted by the same ghosts in the end

and you can pretend

every single goddamned sorry morning

that those tears and those screams

are just anxiety and allergies, not mourning

there's a point in life

where you can always step back

admire the mortar fire

until you're deaf and eyes are blacked

then you can live

the rest of your lifeless daze

in the farthest forgotten corner

of no man's land