newark

as promised some darker stuff


Tool

He stands with his rifle
Nearly three feet away
Smoking with one hand in his pocket
What kind of Sentry is he

I swoop upon him from behind
With the greatest of easy
In a fluid motion I strike
Timing the insertion into the right side of his neck

Just as I cup his mouth and squeeze shut his nose
My left arm under his arm pit
I draw him close and hold him tight
Lifting him off his feet with my one arm

I feel the moisture of his gasp for air
The screwdriver follows my forceful lead
As it devours his brain stem
I slowly rotate it clockwise

Slightly harder than to loosen a carburetor
Softer than if I were putting up a picture frame
Working gently with the rhythm of a mechanic
I find the sweet spot in no time

The struggle is over in five seconds
I can remove my left hand from his mouth
His body is still alive
His brain is dead

I lower him to the ground
Quickly I check his pockets
I take his money and cigarettes
I rummage his gear, what little there is

Could he be more than nineteen?
He had to no real training
Why did he give up so easily
Did he think I would show him mercy

They taught me nothing
I did not kill him, his trainers did
Like my sharpened philips head
I merely was the tool



When will I sleep


The nightmares are still there
Closing my eyes, I can feel them approach from the South
It keeps me awake for hours knowing the will come
Eating within four hours of going to bed only makes them worse

I saw a therapist
We spoke for hours
She slept with me in her office
It did not help, but didnt hurt

The cold weather brings back some quicker than other
The sounds of Fireworks on 4th of July
The smell of Diesel fuel
Hot sticky summer weather

The look in a mothers eyes as she crosses a street with her small children
Seemingly sensing the residual Evil that lurks about me
The look in at the gas station, when they spy my tattoo
Sounds of Prayers from a Mosque

The sound of a car backfiring
The taste of gasoline in the air
Sand
Dampness at dawn

I rest the best only when I keep my loaded pistol under my pillow
Still you can not call it sleep
Is there a woman that will deal with that?
Would I want a woman that would or could?

Will I sleep when I finally wed
Will I sleep when Im a father
Will I sleep when I am dead
I do not know if I can wait that long