Here you are

A hole in my heart

Waiting for the gum

To fill up inside

 

Friendly fire

In the game of hearts

Once, I thought, mere child’s play;

But here now is war

And war is not a game

 

Here’s all that’s left of you

And what you’ve tried on me

A mere wound on the surface of my flesh

And a myriad of phantasmic memories

 

No nurses here

Nor anesthetic

But my surgery is now complete

A whole soldier without a heart

 

Ages before I stepped into this war:

Pure white dreams antebellum

Peach white blossom billowing in the wind

Shot down in cold black blood