Carved cheekbones rise
below sunken eyes and pain.
Leather skin pale enough
for veins to run like lines on a map,
lead to a swollen neck wounded by a scar
like the Congo
weaving into a descent.
Worn out skin falls limp against bone,
no trace of muscle left.
A mouth full of teeth,
just barely hanging on and
exhausted from the fight.
Strawberry blond hair sits
lifeless and sinks down bony shoulders
until the war is lost and all drifts to the ground,
like constant reminders of the monster within.
Tearing away at flesh with razor sharp hatred
fueled by bloodthirst yearning,
the monster takes residency.
Despite all this,
I still think you are beautiful.
Cheekbones stand tall radiating bravery
below the most determined, focused eyes.
Shield tough skin with nothing to hide
as veins lead to symbolic monuments;
the scar pumping valiant blood that rushes down to the warrior heart within.
Persevering skin clings to bone of steel,
equipped to overcome.
A smile full of tenacious soldiers
still in formation and unwavering.
Hair highlighted with war paint stands charged
and cascades down resilient shoulders
prepared for sacrifice and falls for its
comrades,
like martyrs weakening the monster within.
Cowardly and alone acting out like a child
enraged by desolation,
the monster weeps.