Radio Ghosts

<<Ohh-ohhh-ohhhh-oh-oh-oh-oh. Ohhh-oh-oh-oh-oh. Ohhh-oh-oh-oh-oh. Ohhh-oh-oh-oh-oh.>> Static in my

skull, oh, head sound hits. Flash bang dreams wake up to

the same hit list. Radio on my nightstand still won't quit.

Call sign carved deep in my grip. Side effect nasty, stomach still sand

and glassy. People blown in half while crowd freeze and pass. Bones turn to

shrapnel, storm through skin. Red rain passin' tattooed in. I was X-O's

echo, ghost on his hip. Every mission, same death script.

Map in my palm, target in my throat. Voice stay steady,