Of Monsoons and War

I camouflage in laughter.
And I stab them with self-deprecation.
I gun them down with wit.
Yeah.
I'm a hit.

'you're so funny'
They proclaim -
often not knowing my name.
And I grin from ear to ear
As I wipe away their fear.

I cushion them with comfort,
and I battle on through.
Sand bags up and ready,
I continue to shoot.

But if you get close,
you can sense what's off.
And they start to ask 'haven't you had enough?"
"get out of your head! It's not that tough!"
But I wish I could show them,
the iota of love
That stays behind, when they all disappear.
That stays behind. When the silence is filled.
The ringing in my ear, after the grenades dismantle.

Sometimes it's all
Too much to handle. 

You see, it's a fog,
from a monsoon of thoughts.
But I wish I could show them,
how hard it becomes,
To flat with your nemisis.
To live with your hate.
Theres always an enemy,
waiting at the gate.

And then there's the guilt
the guillotine of guilt.
I survive the battle,
but I'm numb to the joy.
and I wish I could give someone else this toy.
Maybe they'd love it more,
maybe they'd use it better.

I soldier on,
Hyperactive funny one.
Bubbly girl, Lively lady. 
Filling the silence,
as much as I can.
Because for a moment,
The sun seeps through.
I see them glow.
I seem them smile.
and I forget what I know.
At least for a while.

The fog is clearing.
The monsoon drizzles.
I forget all my worries,
because my stories are my missiles.