What is poetry
But an outlet for liars
To express their truth

Everything
Will be okay
The end will come
Just not today
The strength you show
You can't let go
You have to fight
To win tonight

The dangers of life,
wait around every corner,
for each unsuspecting victim.

The pains of life,
increase with every day,
a struggle to keep fighting.

The choices of life,
filled with complications,
and heart-breaking repercussions.

The realities of life,
always harsh and cruel,
unable to escape the ugly truth.

The gifts of life,
unknowingly disguised,
accompanied by many lessons.

The treasures of life,
seem to be so few,
retaining that false hope.

The cycle of life,
never set in stone,
endlessly unpredictable.

In poetry I unload to explode
To break free from all the dynamite
I usually kept hidden
My passive nature makes me resistant
to its pollutants.
Sometimes they’re more like landmines
Awaiting for someone
Who stomp the wrong buttons
Then detonate
And explode between my shouts
And cries.

In all honestly
No matter how resistant I am to become resilient
my core is too vulnerable to crumble
By a simple backslash of toxic tongues
And suddenly I fall in my knees to simply walk away
No battle is worth an effort
When you know it’s just pride
Battling himself.

I was on top of the mountain.
My feet weren't stable any longer.
The climb was long and painful
And was far from rewarding when I reached the top,
And saw there was nothing there.

My heart felt heavy and my head was spinning.
No oxygen was getting up to my head at the peak.
I needed to get down.
I needed to get to safety.
I needed to step back.
People are there to catch me, but I was afraid.
Falling was never the problem.
The weightless feeling always brought me peace.
It was if I ever hit the ground, was what truly worried me.

Falling never hurt, but landing did.