Grave Plots

My dear sweet mother, I may have been forgetting to write to you. Oh how I miss your smiling face, mother. The air attacks on this unique planet seem to have contrasting affects on everyone-although there's more mould than usual. Our artillery continued to be battered by the foreign trenches. The commander has instructed us to charge on Wednesday towards their hives to finally build a settlement outside the shuttle. The trenches outside the shuttle are knee deep with what i can only guess to be this planet's mud. The blue of it has stained everyone's skin and given me a rash I can't shift. The sky is always pink here, which isn't bad, but sunsets are awful. No man's land isn't far. That crater is crawling with deserters from both sides though. they even dig in at nights and take some in their beds to feed on. their screams and the nurses' singing over the bombs pepper the night. As you can imagine, sleeping has been hard. I dearly miss the earth. Alth...

I walked to the barren school. as it stood still and looming, staring daggers through my soul I felt my past echo in my head. flashes of children playing and laughing. then one. one memory one living nightmare sticks out. I was lying staring at the ceiling, the class holding hands, circling me, singing..  (in the tune of pop goes the weasel (jack in the box song)) eyes are closed and doors locked tight the curtains drawn till mornin' over to the closet door she come a crawlin' head on backwards white night gown joints snap while calling "I can hear and taste your fear" youll be dead by morning