# Almost Escaped

Author: Riverweasel
Tags: Emotion, Other, Pain, Poem

#9 of Poems

Might be one of my most personal pieces of literature ever.

For as long out as I can remember, I've never felt this close to cracking  
To fucking things up, doing a terrible job and hoping that I'm sent packing  
From the military, from success, from people in general  
I've never felt so useless  
  
Through what were the four most miserable years of my life  
Seventh through tenth grade, verbally stabbed with a knife  
I thought I could handle just about anything now  
But I never felt this deserted  
  
Yeah, I have family at home I can call, but they're seven hours behind me  
I have to time my calls and hope the internet works and doesn't straight up blindside me  
We all converse as a crew, at least those who get constantly shit on do  
But every day I'm constantly ignored  
  
Last week I thought I had escaped this dump, supposedly working in another building  
Away from the cumulating stress of this hell, my nearly broken resolve refueling  
Yet, after one day, they play with emotions, bringing me back here  
I've never felt so imprisoned  
  
My dreams are becoming far more vivid, far more relevant, far more disturbing  
Visions of me running away back to Monterey and simply never fucking returning  
Or breaking completely with nowhere to run, ruining myself in my pain  
I've never been this afraid of my mind

 Writing feels as if it's the only true solace I have, a forum to vent in the extreme  
I can call out each and every one of these bastards and be more than acceptably obscene  
Fuck you first sergeant, fuck you squad leader, fuck you and you and you  
Barely controlled lividity and infuriation  
  
My mental barriers are weakening, my emotional strength receding, akin to Berlin's Wall  
Situations, just like the people they metaphorically stand for, will eventually cause it to fall  
I feel both dread and relief at the notion that this day is steadily approaching  
Never wanted vengeance this terribly bad  
  
I'm not contemplating infliciting physical pain, but to see their faces when I call them all out  
Like God himself, reading off a list of every one of their failures  
  
Fuck that verse, can't find a way to end it, but re-editing it sounds like I'm cheating  
They are words I want to put out and to erase them feels as if I'm defeating  
The whole purpose of why I'm writing, oozing my pain  
Not sure how many wounds or blood it consists of  
  
I'm here, at least I can say that much, but for how much longer, I'm not sure.  
I could get a passport, plan an escape, fulfill my departure from the torture  
But that would require motivation, that would require a drive  
And I have no inspiration to find where they left me  
  

 Thirty-three more months before I'm finally out, yeah, I won't last that long  
Getting through this sounds similar to lifting a truck and I'm just not that strong  
I tell myself just to push through the stretch, just another half year to go  
But my confidence in that is gone  
  
So, yeah, I'm here subsisting, existing, but no longer resisting this mess  
Today, we have a sensing session with mental health that I will put to the test  
They say there will be no repercussions, I don't believe it, but I'll take it  
It's time they hear the truth  
  
Maybe this is the reason I'm fluent with the words, able to express myself through literature  
Able to crisscross melodies on Microsoft Word, to read them up a picture  
They're going to hear it from me today, a speech written with venomous tact  
More than ready to accept the consequences  
  
The leadership is either in denial or just stupid or just lazy as all fuck  
This unit a waste of the Army's money, full of misfits and black muck  
Yeah, I'm covered in tar now, so just go ahead and feather me  
Fact is I don't have a shit left to give  
  

 I'm done getting stabbed in the back, done being sweet talked into submission  
There are soldiers around me constantly being pierced like a pin cushion  
I will stand up for them and I will stand up for myself  
Leadership can choose to spit or swallow  
  
I'm done here, fuck everyone, unless I told you before that I care about your wellbeing.

Source: https://sofurry.com/s/GnDjRppe
Part of the series Poems
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