The muddy battlefields I left behind scream my name almost every dawn,
And each time I choose to look away, they leave dead animals on my lawn.
The parts of myself I gave up for peace are now haunting my worst nightmares.
My fears form a statue in the back of my mind, saying that I should not fight fair.
But I still remember all the moves I made and all the scars I collected,
And my innocence sits on a shelf these days, it is petrified and neglected.
I did the best I could to survive the substances taking over my sanity.
The wind tells a different story though, it mixes self-preservation with vanity.
Still, the foggy battlefields crave my flesh with the power of a loose cannibal.
It will be months before I can stop running like a frightened animal.
If the time is kind, the wounds will heal and pieces will fall back into place,
But only when they burn my casket without me,
I will know that I have won the race.
-Jackie
The Daily Writing of Jackie Wright 