with fire, ruin, and the silence that followed
I woke again at 3:13 -
Same damn hour.
Same open wound.
God still silent,
Room still haunted.
Hope?
Gone stale years ago,
Like breath in a closed casket.
Tammie…
Her name still burns like acid in my mouth.
She said family,
She said forever,
So I signed the papers -
Not just for country,
But for her,
For them -
My redheaded boy and baby girl,
Fire in their hair,
Light in their laugh -
The kind of light you don’t forget,
Even in war.
Even in hell.
I joined the Army for them.
Put my soul in camo.
Put a rifle where my heart used to be.
Thought maybe she’d be proud.
Thought maybe she’d wait.
But she left.
Not just my bed,
Not just my house -
She left me.
With some other bastard in boots
That weren’t even broke in yet.
And a couple years later,
When the war called my name -
I didn’t flinch.
Didn’t blink.
Didn’t even pack fear in my ruck.
'Cause I was already dead.
That woman took the breath from my lungs
Long before I stepped on foreign sand.
People said I was brave.
Said I was a warrior.
No -
I was just empty.
Hollow like a shell casing.
I walked through gunfire
Like it owed me something.
Like it might finally make good
On the death I kept beggin' for
But never got.
I went looking for my appointment in Samarra.
Thought maybe I'd meet Death in the smoke,
Shake his hand,
Say, “What took you so damn long?”
But every bullet missed.
Every roadside bomb spared me.
Even Death turned his face.
And I was left -
Disappointed.
Still breathing.
Still cursed.
Still waking
At 3:13.
They say there’s lessons in the valley.
Well, I found 'em.
Love is a blade.
Memory is a noose.
And some nights,
Mercy don’t answer its phone.
Fury became my fuel.
I burned on hatred -
Not just for Tammie,
But for myself,
For still loving her,
For still aching when I saw my daughter’s smile
In dreams I hated waking from.
I cursed God.
I cursed love.
I cursed the men who bled beside me
Because at least they got to stop hurting.
Me?
I lived.
Every damn day.
Every damn night.
Dragging the weight of what was stolen
And the fury of what I became.
And when I came home -
The war stayed in me.
Lodged in the chest like a rusted nail.
Bars became confessionals.
My fists became scripture.
I started swinging in barrooms -
Drunk on pain and gasoline,
On pills I shook into my hand like dice -
Beggin’ for the number that meant peace.
But looking for someone to bleed with me.
I wanted bruises.
I wanted punishment.
Wanted to feel anything
That could match the ache inside.
And my Army brothers -
God bless ’em -
Kept dragging me out the back door,
Blood on my shirt,
Tears in my mouth,
Begging me,
“Come on, man. This ain’t you. This ain’t the way.”
But it was.
For a while,
It was the only way I knew
How to scream
Without makin’ a sound.
I wrote my name in goodbye notes
More times than I can count.
Held razors like promises,
Held my breath like it might not come back.
Once,
I saw the other side.
Felt the cold hand brush my chest
And turn away.
Even death didn’t want me.
There were nights I saw the barrel,
Put it to my temple like a communion wafer.
Salvation in steel.
But something -
Some tiny voice,
Like a child’s whisper in a hurricane -
Said, Not yet.
Maybe it was my son’s laugh
Tucked deep in memory.
Maybe the ghost of who I used to be,
Before heartbreak got promoted
And love went AWOL.
Because Tammie left,
But her absence stayed.
Louder than bombs.
Sharper than any shrapnel.
And every 3:13,
I still hear her voice
Like a knife at my ear,
Cutting through prayer,
Through sleep,
Through whatever pieces of me still believed
In mercy.
But I go on.
Not strong -
Just stubborn.
Not hopeful -
Just unfinished.
I missed my appointment in Samarra.
Maybe that means
There's still something left to do.
Even if I don’t know what.
Even if I’m still pissed about it.
But if you're listenin’, Lord -
And I doubt You are...
Just know:
I'm still here.
Still broken.
Still walkin’.
And still waking up
At 3:13.
GBS
1991
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