They throw hatred at me like daggers.
Leaving me breathless and gasping for salvation.
Even though I'm wounded -a hole in my heart-
my courage shines through because

I am a warrior of misery.

With every loathing stare, every derogatory slur, my injuries grow more. But the healing scars are stronger than stars. I will not forget,
no.
I will carry these nightmares.
Together until death do us part.

Memories are stronger than moments.

When I lie in bed at night they are what I dream of,
they are the lullabies that drag me to sleep.
I am a warrior.
They can continue to throw knives of pain my way
and I will carry on.

But the memories are what **** me.