“All’s Fair…”

She stands alone in “no-mans-land”,

bombarded by a silence

that rings in her ears day and night,

spraying her with blunted shards

that batter her heart.

She is immobilised by fear

of the referred pain,

and the absolute uncertainty

of her untried words,

falling like blank bullets at her feet.

But she keeps reloading,

until she wastes away

with futile effort.

Her clothes fall

from her narrow shoulders,

and she is a child again.

Insecure and alone,

she crosses the muddy ground between them,

that shrouds all her colors,

until she is unrecognisable,

even to herself;

old wounds splitting and tearing

beneath the crust.

She knows he is bunkered down,

with his back to the chaos,

but she will hoist her tiny flag

embroidered with her truth;

white for surrender,

and red for love….

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