If you Want Peace, Prepare for War


Stick to your guns, Babe, and you should be alright.

"Promise me, right now, that you will always stay,"
You screamed at me through bared teeth that day,
And your eyes cut me down to my very naked core,
As you held a gun to my temple, pushing me to the floor.
I felt the pressure burn through my frail, bloody bones,
You're fighting dirty, not playing with little sticks and stones;
But something inside of me is telling me I'll be okay,
After all: I was perfectly fine before I met you anyway.

The calloused palm I was forced to hold slams to my cheek,
And you egotistically snicker because you know that I'm too weak.
Wrists and ankles in shackles, you hold me prisoner in your heart,
Too young and stupid to see that it was wrong from the very start.
I plead for redemption, from behind a sheet of tainted lies,
Trying to hide the shame that's settling in my innocent blue eyes;
But you won't let me go that easy, not this time around.

I promised my heart that it was over, tonight would be the last;
But you got into my thoughts and changed that one fast,
On my shaking knees, I begged you not to do this to me,
And for a quick second, you were going to let me be.
Shaking hands trace through a bloody path, reaching for you,
And in the dead of the hour, you got tired of fighting too;
Turning on your heel, you stumbled out just when I needed you,
Leaving me on the middle of the kitchen floor, broke in two.
When I finally gained the strength to rise to my trembling feet,
I could have ran, I could have given up in miserable defeat;
But I'm still here waiting for you to come back home for more,
Because if you want peace, you better prepare for war.

-Jenna Elphick
February 7, 2009


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