War Poet.ca - A CFAP Project by Suzanne Steele


no front page story. blast of words. photo, details… quiet. so quiet. an obituary penned by some oh God, oh God grieving mom and dad.

read between the lines. another one. just 27 years of age. home a year and a half. but somehow he couldn’t make it home, all the way. alive. couldn’t find the peace within.

I heard it yesterday. from a friend. no details. not too many details yet. just a few words telling me that another one took his own life. war wound. injury. of the silent, beneath the skin kind. the kind that festers in the fold of brain and heart and mind.

and what shocks me? what really shocks me? is how I’m not surprised. what shocks me is that it doesn’t shock me anymore. this is what? number ***?

About This Page

The page you're reading contains a single diary entry entitled another. It was posted here on October 05, 2011.


Complete diary archive