Casualties of War

Casualties of War

by Evan McArthur KaneĀ (Photo by Bored-Now)

Emotional landmines have long caused my mind to be declared a war zone. Sometimes the rhythm and dexterity it takes to dance around the danger will work in my creative favor. This is not one of those times. This is one of those times when the words don’t come out quite right. This is one of those times when the art of writing seems more like a chore. I could easily conjure a few hundred whimsical words, but it would also be a calculatedly fraudulent and soulless waste of prose. I could rip words from the present state of my heart, but they would read angry, bitter, cold and dark. Either option is a guarantee of writer’s remorse–not to mention reader’s regret. In what I hope is a satisfying compromise, I’ve gone through the archives and found some words gone by that are worth sharing anew. The war will end soon…PEACE by piece.

this is NOT
a good poem
i know
i wrote it
not feelin’
poetic
just feel like
screamin’
words on the page
i chose
she chose
i know
how this goes
she’ll be gone
soon
again
and i can’t stop her
and i can’t stand her
for not understanding

yes
i’m complicated
but you said
you read the memo
don’t want to keep you
from the pursuit of simple
though your desire
is inspired by fear
you can’t shake
and rejection
you can’t take
so far the sake of
what you call sanity
you hand me
walking papers
prematurely
our story
still unfolding
and untold

let’s grow
old
slow
like
we’re supposed to
two
together
one
for always
forever
is tryin’ to find us
but you diverge
misdirection
misplaced
affection
erased
perfection
of
LOVE

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