Fallout Shelter

Never mind me. I'm just writing from my fallout shelter. It's not my last line of defense. For that would imply that I was still in the fight. It's not my hold out. For that would imply that I'm holding out. It's not my Fortress of Solitude. For that would imply that I had solitude.    

   Never mind me. I'm just writing from a hole in the ground because there's nowhere left above ground for me. I  tune through  the stations  on my radio. Trying to listen for a broadcast of people who are still surviving. But all I get are automated words. Some people who all say the same things of some cliche or another. God is great! Everything gets better! Everything happens for a reason! It's never too late! Never give up! Everyone deserves .... The same repetitive echoes every day. Makes you wonder, is happiness really only a cliche?    

   No, never mind me. Maybe I'm the repetitive echo. Maybe that dark irradiated wasteland above me is just a metaphor for my mental state. My emotional battlefield. What's left of my bombed out self-esteem. And maybe this is what's left of me huddled down buried deep in my chest. While something else occupying the outside does unspeakable things in the apocalypse that comes after.      

   Never mind me. I'm sure someone, somewhere is tuning in their radio and listening to hear someone like me. And know they're not the only ones who sit in their fallout shelters after their war was lost. 

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~    

Stay tuned when next week my personas will have a round table discussion and break into a rousing round of 99 bottles of beer on the wall!