Because Someone Has to Go

The foggy soldiers stand tall,
trees with light fleeing through their camouflage petals.
Too old to be ready for battle,
I hear them murmur
under the screeching calls of birds overhead
begging for a breeze to bring the enemy into battle.
The thunder rumbles
in the distance
translating war from the sharp Arabic.

I wretch at the smell of fear floating from my skin
sitting here fighting with myself.
A revolution for peace
churns itself up into my throat,
the bile stinging my tongue.

I taste the tightness of my cheeks,
the pain of all of these old, scarred faces
looking down on me as I pass.

I drop to my knees and close my eyes.
Salty rain paints my cheeks
two drops at a time.
I want to scream
from the guilt of trying to forget
that you are thereand I am here,
Searching for your soldier’s smile.