carpet to wall

Lines, white on white
a worn washed quilt,
all white and empty

Here is the land of my battle
the stains that could be blood
I have fought the air.

Lines, skin on skin
Once I fought myself
then the suit of armor came

Two ants crawling, lost
through the crack on the wall
and I am bludgeoning no one.

Lines, carpet to wall
this silent land, this silent war
the salt crusting the skin

Drove the sword in, only
the suit of armor had grown a body
flesh and blood

Lines, white blood leaking,
pooling; a man after all,
but without courage.