Broken
A word that shreds my ears each time I hear it.
I suppose I should’ve created some kind of resilience towards it.
But to no avail
Everything shattered after Phillip died..
My son..a lone angel up there..
How I wish I could've done something to stop it..
But the demons of my work took me captive and turned me into an automaton..
I closed myself off from the ones that I loved most and pushed them further away than I already had.

My dearest Betsey..
I wish I could say I knew how she felt..
But I am not her
I will never be one to match my Eliza.
Her disguise as a meek little mouse, on the inside reveals her true self as a powerful lioness.

I was angry at her when Phillip first died..
I thought she was being weak, closing herself off from all of the world
But now I know
I am the weak one

I am no more the man I used to be, just a shell of myself.
As my dear John Laurens once said, “You, Alexander have an aura that will outshine those who surround you!”
I took that statement with pride, I had always been praised for my ethic both on and off the battlefield, but it was different coming from Laurens.
If my dear Laurens could see me now, what would he say?
“How could you, Alexander?! You were so smart on the terrain, why not now?”
Or maybe
“I should’ve known you were just a dirty, immigrant rat from the start!”
As I ponder these outcomes, I picture my dear friend’s eyes which were always so happy and filled with life..
...suddenly filled with anger and hate..
Stop it, Alexander! God, get a grip! I think to myself.
But I can’t get a grip..
Because I am

B r o k e n..