Do not mourn me, don’t bury me under folded flags and empty words. Keep your bugles, keep your polished boots. That’s for show. We lived in the dust, the rust, the smoke. Remember the bullshit, the endless waiting, the orders that made no sense. Remember how we laughed anyway— too…

You said you didn’t know me,like I had slipped away,like some imposter moved inwhile you weren’t looking. But the truth is,you never knew me.You saw what I let you see—a mask, a surface,a man who kept the rest buried. I’ll own that.I didn’t even know myself back then.I was fighting…