Trenches

You can hear the rats chittering at night, 

Pencils scratching on damp paper, 

Writing letters lost before received, 

Dirty water on your boots, 

The smell of death and bodies and despair, 

The sounds of suffering become background noise, 

The pain dulls after time, 

Helplessness invades, 

Trenches dig themselves across your heart, 

Hopeless and abandoned, 

Crawling with anguish, 

The sound of laughter is a memory, 

You’ve reached for it so many times 

That it’s worn out, 

A favorite shirt with the colors faded. 

Surviving isn’t worth it if you can’t live with yourself again.