he doesn’t have the guns anymore. He used to
have a ton of ‘em, keep them hidden in every
corner of this one-bedroom hole above some
old bag’s garage. If the guns were still here, I’d kill
him.
No, I couldn’t, I’d be killing myself then. He’s all
I got. I just wanna get out, I wanna live, I wanna
stop hiding.
I want him to take down his guard for just one minute,
that guard of his that is still stronger than his
sargeant’s from Korea. Damnit.
I wish his mind would just rest, so I could take it over
again, but it seems to always be there, on the
defensive, darting around, looking for ways to protect
himself.
IX
there’s a war
behind every corner
you’re gotta learn
to fight
people don’t know
who to trust anymore
what to
believe in
but I do