Ruby Alexandra Beloz

YOU DON’T KNOW ME

IWVPA Double Tap Award for War Poetry: Awarded: June 10, 2007
Awarded: Awarded: June 10, 2007
I’ve been home from Iraq for six months
No longer can I see the sun
All of my window curtains are drawn
Left with only the memories of what I’ve done

Sitting in the dark
imprisoned by time
My life I wear on my sleeve
My family no longer knows who I am

I toy with the thought of ending it all
My best friend waits to taste my blood
He waits for me to get the nerve
I call for his name: “Razorblade”

Time where I am does not know the difference
From Heaven or Hell
So I sit in the dark in my cell
TV’s on to silent the noise in my head

I have another new friend I call me him Whiskey
He loves me more than my Country
My Dad tries to talk to me
But I am blinded by my own misery

Lost in my own endless desert storm
My soul lost to the wind that keeps me
In a constant whirlwind too fast to land
My legs no longer can reach the floor

So I sit in this wheelchair
And I call for my new best friend Whiskey
“Hey Asshole, pour me another
It’s a new day maybe

But I’m no longer sure
If it’s night or day
So I pour another drink
Whisky is laughing at me

My family tries to tell me it’s OK,
But they all have their legs
So I wait until they are all gone
Call for my new best friend “Razorblade”

He’s been waiting all this time
And whiskey has given the nerve
it took six months to figure it out
YOU DON’T KNOW ME…