Shhhh

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TW: suicidal ideation

All is quiet on the western front
All is still, we have till morning till
They wake
Bullets pinging off the steel
Dented, bent, it's no big deal
The rusting metal begins to thin
Keep going with the bullets
I'm liking the ding
I'm about to go over the top
Over the soiled crumbling edge
Where I pray that this world's grip on me
Will finally drop

Barbed wire snags on my arm
Spikes ripping through my cotton sleeve
A singular cut
Fuck it, that wasn't enough
We charge
But the adrenaline filled euphoria
That captivates my hopeful mates
Had already left my blood
Been kicked and thrown around in the mud

It splatters my face
Their wet battered boots
An uneven pace

Soon I can only be found under a mound in the ground
A poppy placed, two minutes, now wait
It's all quiet when you're dead and young
It's all quiet on the western front

Context: this is written about how I feel at war with myself and my emotions and I just really really want everything to end. In the poem, the soldier is really subtly giving up, trying to do it in a way that no one else around them notices.

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