melted

a scuffle is not a war, stephen

i remember last summer
there was a boy named stephen
eighteen, dreaming only
of living and laughing
insults turned to bullets
his back flat on the ground
pushed into the dirt of an invisible trench
as he was pinned over and over
by children, learning by example
i would tell him to cease fire
a scuffle is not a war
maybe he listened, maybe he learned
but i did not

i see myself today
nothing more than a child
bags under her eyes, masked by a smile
that gleams in the freezing cold
i get older, the world gets too heavy
to hold all these people in my arms
is not a burden meant for any of us
we are all soldiers just trying to survive
as life pins us down, over and over
day by day we try our best, restless
but there is always someone on the other side
being shot down by your actions
a gun you never saw yourself firing

i remember who i used to be
and it hurts when my mother reminds me
you think the best of the world
and the constant grayness tears you to shreds
maybe i've grown up
it is just as terrifying as before
pulling my helmet closer
fatigues are named oh-so appropriately
into no man's land, i keep running
from everything i hold dear
maybe it would all be better
if the only thing my impact leaves
a rusted chain, dog tags with faded engravings
after all, there is no need to remember
the name of every casualty
cover me in dust
the echo of the earth breaking under my feet
i'll fall and i'll shatter
but the movement will not

stop

stephen, stephen, stephen, stephen, stephen