Dear Sasha,
A war is coming,
I am aware of its gravity and I don’t know if I am ready,
To answer your question in your last letter,
Why do I cut so deep?
It’s because I know how words can cut deeper than any sword,
Don’t give me the ******* that,
“sticks and stones can brake bones and words can never hurt you”
Sticks can snap your bones,
But words can snap your spirit and mind,
And these times are ******* my spirit,

“Time heals all”
but these wounds will take longer
So don’t tell me words don’t affect my life
If someone sits there in your face saying,
Your stupid and irresponsible long enough,
Torturing you constantly with their literary daggers,
You start to believe it,
You start to feel,

As much as I want to shrugged it off,
It weighs me down,
This curse called empathy,
A curse of a pacifist,

I take every word to heart,
And it ****** me off,

I know I am not what they say,
But this name tag on my uniform is all I have left of my identity,
I’m not sure if It’s true,
But I can’t help believe it anyway,

Don’t tell me to shrug it off,
Cause you can’t remove these battle wounds,
If you keep chiseling at this stone pillar it will crumble,
Letting loose my dogs of war,

I cut deep,
Cause I know the strength of words
I follow the golden rule,
So don’t make me use these literary daggers,
to leave lasting marks on your psyche,
Cause trust me I have,
And I can rip apart your world and all of its glory,
Cause I was trained to do so,

Make you doubt your identity,
cause mine was taken,
Cause it’s easy to make my pain…. yours,
But that would be too easy.
I will turn these daggers upon myself,
Because “If you have nothing nice to say don’t say anything at all”
If you are struck down,
You want to strike back,

These words and thoughts don’t just disappear,
These arrows are sharp and drawn,
I have to let them go somewhere,
Ill cut and stab myself before I hurt another,
I’ll take your pain for you,
No matter how much you don’t like me and try to tear me down,
I will not lash out,
I will not strike back,
Because that would make me no better than you,
I will cut myself before I cut you,

I cut myself so deep,
Cause I get over the pain,
The scares stay but the pain doesn’t,
As I finish this letter the anger has already left,

“you’re only as happy as you make yourself out to be”
So I will take the full force of their swords,
because I won’t dwell in the pain,
So I am going to move on from the hate,

So why do I cut myself so deep?,
because I know now I am strong enough to take it,​


Yours truly,
The empathetic warrior

The inner tenacity of my machination is rarely understood by many, an introspections of certain recollections that ponder that question..why? But I need not tell you, about gum on your shoe, or the expletive deleted that come after. So I do open doors, and sit on floors, and give random flowers to random ladies. But I am sucker for a smile, an unpredictable trial, of something so innocent as simple happiness. But Then I surely do jest, at the most convenient time, to make fitting a punch line of a joke. And if merely opulence of thought was my only intent, then blushing is the inevitable conclusion. For if I am too boast, to little more than an atrocious manner, then I too am I fool, and love is the tool of a dumb and blind man's decent. As I oddly beg the question...do you have any cream for my coffee, then sit back and take in the wisdom, of times that are far beyond me. To place with no boundaries or burdens, no dying or decay, a place where I can live a life inside a cherished, loving way. For love is always fleeting, more often flooding in, I grab a cup and sit back, it's time to enjoy the days begin. Cause the sun is just about to rise and being to realize, this is some awesome free writin, that almost feel like I might just be bitin, some style that heard through words orchestrated from past memories flowing through an electrical breeze. But I am no artist, no rapper by design, I am merely a healer of the mind. Given the skills of mental manipulation over unguided emotional frustrations that are products of blinded attention to feelings within the heart. The mind is a terrible thing to waste.....but an unbridled heart can lay waste to it all! Logic is the mind...emotions are the heart...watch what happens when one pulls these two apart, into a tragic representation of what it means to be truly scared, a blessed manifestation of a ****** ******!