Creation in Verse - Shreshtha Sharma

The Anatomy of a Child Soldier

by Shreshtha Sharma

They ask me to talk about myself and I say, here you just keep your head low and you pray

Because my shoes are too big for my feet to fit in, as I march every morning with a new war to win

Because my flesh and bones are nearly the same, and I feel like a small pawn in a crazy, complicated game

Because the inside of my cheek bleeds when I bite it, for you don't say what you want, you just learn to fight it

Because you could count my ribs with a finger if you had to, and I look so tiny, it's like I never really grew 

Because my stomach, you see, hasn't had much work to do, between guns and abuse, there wasn't much to chew 

Because I have blood so thick and red stuck in my nails, every time I try to scrub it out, it's like a bird tied with a chain 

Because I have wrinkles that I shouldn't have slapped onto my skin, and an ugly battle scar on the right side of my chin

Because my eyes, they used to be alive, a warm shade of brown, but now the colour might as well be just another noun 

Because there really are no monsters under the bed, no, their true location is right here inside my head 

Because the concept of reaching out or crying is quite foreign, you just keep it inside no matter what the torment 

Because it doesn't matter if you call it post traumatic stress, fact is, I held a knife to a man's heart and dug in, I confess 

Because I wish, I truly wish, that I could say that the world is better and bolder, but some scared, little part of me will always be a child soldier.