mortar fire.

oh these little injuries. so many tiny fragments of shrapnel. tiny and sharp, moving slowly just under the skin. so slow you don't even know they are moving, or even there, until one hits your heart, just a tiny prick is enough to take you down.

i'm feeling sort of battered by the days lately. it's sort of self serving, but i do feel a bit picked on. i've got wavering faith. wavering loyalties. wavering everything. the only sure thing is that these kids need me every day. test me every day. but they also love me every day. one is currently screaming in time out, the other is needing constant reminders of the rules, and honestly i want to chuck them both in their rooms and leave them there for awhile.

on the other hand, other things about me have been completely disregarded. it's fine, really. one becomes invisible after awhile. no matter how red the hair is. these little injuries.