|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
it wont heal with liquorit wont heal with liquor; by, Emily Daversa.
Dedicated to an old friend...
last night he broke my heart
all it took was a bad day.
my family had ruined everything,
nothing was going my way.
so i wrote a quick s.o.s.
and sent it his way.
hoping he'd be byhimself,
hoping he'd make it all okay.
the multi-lingual liquors
and a bit of that green drug.
i tell him i really need him,
his only gesture is a shrug.
my breathing becomes quick
my face fades into a crimson.
i turn to my one sanctuary,
the place where i feel peacefull in.
i return to an old friend.
kiss them for good luck.
i did all i could to resist the urge,
but with a violent stroke, my friend had struck.
my pain fell down my arm
my sorrow down my face.
this would've never happened
if he had cared in the first place.
A Turning Point in the Clockwork WarA war of attrition
depends on supply and drawdown,
how much you have and how much you use up.
With personnel, the balance concerns
the influx of recruitment versus
the outflow of casualties, deserters, invalids.
There is only so much loss
that a fighting force can sustain
and still fight.
Pilot Claude Archer was the first
to challenge his invalid discharge.
"I don't need legs to fly," he said,
patting the healed stumps of his thighs.
"My Osprey runs on elbow grease."
The members of the discharge board
paused and looked at each other.
What he said was true.
The Osprey-class fighter jets
relied on hand controls,
and a sharp eye and iron nerve.
Fingers flicked through the stack
of discharge papers -- so many, many pages.
So many soldiers lost, never to fight again.
They could not afford to let slip even one
who might be retained, somehow,
to face the front line once more.
Far less could the war effort spare
one of its best pilots.
So they put Pilot Archer back on the roster,
Keep in Touch!