Homeless in the war (MS)

I sit near the window.

the room has no roof.
a dog sits with me
and we snuggle to mitigate the damned harsh wind. 

I don’t know what I want.
Four walls around me? 
To know home?
To be on a couch 
rather than a soiled, brick-strewn floor?

I can’t see the dog.
He's snuffling around the ruins,
doesn’t know me, 
but he cares for me.

If I moaned with pain would he hear me? 
God doesn't.

I’m homeless
pretending this is 
something else, 
a place of peace and safety,
there are probably dead bodies under the rubble, 
flowers crushed before they could bloom.

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