Will I see you before the III World War?
Or will we only meet in the fields?
You’ll carry your rifle like if you were never the sweet smiling wall destroyer. And when you stop to eat your pills disguised as greasy meat you’ll remember me saying “if we haven’t been able to be humans so far, we should be animals with all their savage instincts”. You chew delicious nasty things while you wonder if it’s worthy.
Off course it’s not.
You pass through it and
and
you get up to kill. They call your name and you follow them like you used to follow your grandma when she said the cookies were ready. Warm crunchy cookies under warm blood. You put your hands in it pretending it’s pastry and
you are shot!
you arrive the nursery with your neck spurting. I’ve been there cleaning the mosaics and covering bodies with dirty sheets.
(hey nurse, get me a sheet, please, don’t let me here all naked. Sorry, there are no more sheets, I used them all in dead people.)
I finally see you again. Do you still remember our troubled goodbye night?
I put my pointing finger in your throat, down to your veins once again.
- what are we fighting for?
I answer you
- do you remember that night? I asked you “if we were soldiers would we be killing to survive or would we die digging shelters for the supposed enemy?”
- we must have made it all wrong.
- we did nothing. Now it’s just another war, it’s only people screaming in sorrow and dying all alone in cold sand. Now it’s just me serving you, saving a life like saving a grape from being eaten. Anyway, I’m glad you recognized me.