Civil War-poem

my stomach feels what my heart should:
the aftermath of
my insides revolutioning unendingly-
Us argues that I’m good at heart,
Them argues my heart’s a mess-
We can’t agree so I’m left
feeling sick
over what I did to
You and Me

my gut that aches is the same that
persuaded me to halt whatever
waltz we were in the middle of
so on a break, I tried to drown my
confused brain in hops and poison,
trying to kill Our memory
but I resurrected it tenfold,
in the form of this dizzying disease

my eyes are pinned to the screen of
Me and You
mercilessly replaying the scene
when I cut the cord and demanded
these feet
to move
away

my eyes sting, my core burns, my feet tire, my brain is nauseous-
no wait: I’m confusing mySelf with my Parts-
my body’s at war
with the soul it imprisons
striving for solace, for peace

but will the silence, the stillness be the End
of a Battle
or the War?