Soldier

We –

A month I neglected to
look at
you –
you begged me –
like without my eyes
you don’t
exist.

You’re dressed
in black
T-shirt, jeans,
broad shoulders
fill out your leather jacket.

You look un-ironed

Your hips
slim slipped
into black jeans
with white knees faded.

Your stomach – guarded.
Below your sternum:
A soldier wound –
A gaping – blown
apart, cavernous hole.

I know it exists.

Seen your action man eyes
Twitch – slide side to side-
Like the boy
flicked the switch
at the back of
your head.

Heard your
high pitch
scream turn
to long loving
howl
evokes
sympathy
and awe at your
hidden plight.

Published by Stella McHugh

Survivor of so many things that happens to women and girls.

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