Smoke.
Broken, bodies and shattered bones. Is this my 'normal?'. The carnage seems so familiar.....so intimate...like warmth of a lover's hand. The stink of bodily fluids and gun powder conjugate to conceive the stench of death. I do not feel the bleeding holes on my body,....I can not feel the blood oozing from my skin. I feel nothing......I am static....a tabla rasa,....undefined. I am featureless and out of focus like a blur. Detached and yet connected to everything....and nothing.
Broken, bodies and shattered bones. Is this my 'normal?'. The carnage seems so familiar.....so intimate...like warmth of a lover's hand. The stink of bodily fluids and gun powder conjugate to conceive the stench of death. I do not feel the bleeding holes on my body,....I can not feel the blood oozing from my skin. I feel nothing......I am static....a tabla rasa,....undefined. I am featureless and out of focus like a blur. Detached and yet connected to everything....and nothing.