My Mistress, War: by Sean Moore

3/5 India Company - call sign "Diesel"

My Mistress, War

by Sean Moore

I will always think of her. 

Sometimes fondly. 

And sometimes with disgust and hate. 

When I wake up holding onto my wife, 

I think of her. 

In the quiet hours when I’m alone, 

it is her I am with. 

She is always on my mind. 

She is all I think about.

I miss her, 

and the way she smelled. 

When we were together 

I hardly slept. 

She would keep me up all night. 

And now, more with every passing day, 

it is during the darkest hours of the night

that I lay awake thinking 

of the time we spent together.

Her hate kept me warm 

when I was cold. 

Her rage fueled me, 

drove me, 

and drove me crazy. 

Her screams still haunt me, 

something to never be unheard.

She made me a man. 

She took 

what innocent and childish ways 

that I had, 

and replaced them with a lust

and desire for the forbidden. 

I still want her. 

I still need her. 

Nearly a decade after our first encounter, 

I still feel her presence 

everywhere.

With her, 

I felt as though I was exactly who 

I was supposed to be. 

I always knew what I had to do. 

And life was simple. 

Not easy, but simple.

And then it was over. 

I knew I would never see her again 

but I could never have expected 

how lonely I would be 

without her. 

In nearly every room of my house 

there is some sort of memento 

to remind me of her. 

My body carries scars and tattoos for her. 

I close my eyes and I see her. 

When I sit in silence 

I hear her screams.

I want her. 

Always. 

I need her. 

Never again.

She was my mistress, 

and will be always.

My mistress, War…

Being human is…

by Sean Moore

Fucking exhausting. 

For all of my waking moments, 

sans the precious ones with my wife, 

I pretend.

 

I pretend to be interested, 

and to have emotions. 

I pretend to care

about the little things. 

I pretend that, 

while at the grocery store, 

I’m shopping 

when I feel like I’m hunting.

 

I have to pretend 

that sad things are sad. 

And things that make other people happy 

also make me happy.

 

I have to pretend 

to be ignorant. 

Not so much about intelligence 

(although I do), 

but about the real world. 

Very few people have experienced 

or inhabit the real world.

 

Most people live in the illusion 

of safety and comfort. 

But I know better. 

I know that we are all animals. 

And we break down 

into two categories: 

Hunters and Prey.

 

I know without a doubt 

what I am 

although I will continue to pretend 

to be domesticated.

 

What are you?

Just a Ghost

by Sean Moore

Sitting at panera 

waiting for my order, 

I know there isn’t a person here 

that can actually relate to me. 

And I am OK with that.

 

They see 

but do not see.

They hear 

but do not listen.

 

They exist 

on a different plain than I. 

I am a ghost 

that only passes into their world 

when I want to.

 

I have become an expert 

at being no one to notice. 

But I notice everything.

 

I see 

what is not in plain sight. 

I hear meaning, 

not words.

Always the hunter. 

Never noticed. 

Always watching.

About The Author

Sean Moore served with Third Battalion Fifth Marines India Company from 2003 to 2007. He did two tours in Iraq as a Mortarman and Infantryman. He did the Fallujah Experience in 2004-2005, and then security and stabilization operations back in the Anbar Provence in 2006. 

Sean Moore

Sean left the Marine Corps in November of 2007, and is now trying his handing at writing. He is currently working on a book and also looking at doing a documentary about the American gunfighter.

"It’s been years since I’ve been behind the trigger professionally and yet I still have this drive to keep my skills sharp. 

I, until recently, still frequented the range where I would run through “maintenance drills”. Speed reloads, moving and shooting, off-hand, close in tactical, tactical reloads, multiple target engagement, etc. Backwards and forwards. Inside and out. Anyways preparing for the next hunt. 

I’d run through drills with the SWAT team and critique everything in my head. They basically have their shit together, but as a unit, they lack the hunger. I’m used to being around bad motherfuckers. Professional gunfighters. Wolves amongst sheep. Now they’re gone. Now I have no enemy to fight. 

I think it’s time to hang up my guns and move on. But my hands, they remember the gun. And they won’t forget…."

Sean's Blog

“I am only one, but I am one. I can't do everything, but I can do something. The something I ought to do, I can do, and by the grace of God, I will.” ~Everett Hale


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