I Cry To Let Everything Out

I Can See Us, Living In The Woods, Her Wearing That A, Me With A S Maybe, S For Silent, S For Stupid, For Scared. S For Silly. For Shame.

If I Run Or Breathe Too Deep, The Cheap Stitches Holding Me Together Will Snap, And All The Stickiness Inside Will Pour Out And Burn Through The Concrete.

So, She Tells Me, The Words Dribbling Out With The Cranberry Muffin Crumbs, Commas Dunked In Her Coffee.

I Just Want To Sleep. A Coma Would Be Nice. Or Amnesia. Anything, Just To Get Rid Of This, These Thoughts, Whispers In My Mind. Did He Rape My Head, Too?

This Camp Is A Forge For The Army; It's Testing Our Mettle. Instead Of Heat And Hammer, Our Trials Are Cold And Hunger. Question Is, What Are We Made Of?