Over It

This isn't what I wanted. If you knew me better you wouldn't have to pester me. There is nothing new and nothing left to talk about. I cannot even think about it. I already have the battle wounds and it's not even week 2. How did my draft number get picked this soon? As if I thought about some tattoo that said a different name so they would stop asking. Lying there I'm bleeding and you gave me some cartoon bandages expecting me to say thank you. How many warnings before the canon blows? All I did was stare blankly as others pass me by. After number 3 I said "third time's the charm" never knew I would be number 4. I put on some half smile and the mad hatter pours me more tea. Maybe I was just a little crazy back then. Maybe I was lying to myself or being naive. It's over. I survived the war, not just the battle.