“Cold Directive”

I am very alone. In more ways than I care to acknowledge. I cried and puked and cried and curled up in a ball by the side of the tub. Cold, dying with what little is still inside...no comfort.

I slept.

And then I had to awaken and be me. Here. Empty.

It wasn’t until one of my sons woke up and we had burritos for breakfast...and the sauce packets spoke...in more ways than one...in the exact way that pulls me into shadows and away from people.

“And you shall assume the form of mist, become a cloud of death that will indeed consume men for their lack majesty, devour the wicked and seek justice for the lord, if only with demonic hands and thru Satan’s purest understanding”.

You are not safe. You merely serve your sentence.

 

The combinations of grieve acceptance lurk in the words. The memories. The soft caresses of loved ones.

I have none.

I protect. I stay alert. I doze in seconds if only to see what and who need to be kept at length. I’m now in a place where I have to compartmentalize myself to keep safety among those I cherish, love, hold dear and won’t stop being a chest plate for.

My mind is uranium.

My body a silo.

My heart the dual sided launch key.

I. Am. Fucking. Nuclear. ☢️.

Get 500+ UV protection...you’ll need it to get your wishes filled if you decide to stay close to the blast sight.

I. Am. Not. Okay.

I. Am. Not. Human.

I. Am. Devoid.

Give munitions.

I. Will. Die for you. Yours. Mine.

I am now one amongst the Fence.