We played while bullets flew over head.
We play as they collect bodies broken and torn, we didn’t see.
Cooled battlefields are our playgrounds, not cooled for long as hate drifts in and out.
We are still children, our hearts remain, our spirits are not broken, our spirits are bent.
We will one day fight on the these playgrounds that are cooled battlefields.
Our hearts remain as children though not given a chance, we see this world through children’s eyes, we take to the sky and forsake the ground.
Days are still hopeful as flags burn and holes dug.
Smoke draped sunny days are still sunny days, even as mothers wail and dust settles around fresh Earth.
Our hearts remain as bullets fly and ominous skies bring hell fire and grief, we may not make it today, but it’s still day and we have some playing to do.
Do you know me? then shut up.
Teeth grinding and I can’t even see.
Lips pursed tight and thoughts on fire.
Muscles inextinguishable and reality on yield.
I put my hands around the throat of my invisible tormentor and squeeze.
I don’t wanna talk I don’t wanna listen I don’t wanna hear I don’t want you I don’t want me I don’t wanna come I don’t wanna go I don’t wanna feel I don’t wanna see I wanna be mad I wanna hate I wanna kill I wanna be killed I wanna hurt I wanna scream I want it dark I want it cold I gotta go I gotta disappear I gotta run I gotta choke I gotta hit I gotta kick I gotta burst I need to move I need stop I need to pierce I need to stab I need to bleed I need to be tight I need to be left I need to be alone.
The world is safe, all these things are Rage Turned Inward. That is depression.