My eyes may be closed,

But you'll never catch me sleeping.

I run my hand, cold,

Over scars with heavy breathing.

 

Even now it stings,

Indentions deeper than remembered.

Pale, thin, white contours,

Upon my arm from last December.

 

A long time fighting,

Fighting every loss I suffered.

Crying many nights,

Using my pillow as a buffer.

 

I've come a long way,

I've weathered war after war,

Closing my eyes tightly,

Calmed the waves and soothed the storm.