You're looking for a soldier
Who'll stay and fight.
Hold that gun high and proud.
But I'm the one who'd pull the trigger
On myself.

You're looking for safe ground
A place to rest your tired feet.
But every where I step
A crack in the pavement is made.
My feet is battle scarred by the bits of brokenness I've walked on.

You can train me up for battle
As hard as you want.
Put me through all the courses
Run all the laps needed
Make me to be the ideal fighting machine.

But as hard as I try
To stand my ground,
Someone always has the upper hand.
A  bigger gun
More bullets.
And bang
I'm left for dead.

This insanity is keeping me sane.
This frustration
Reminds me that I can still feel.
This pain in my chest
Tells me that my heart is still working.
I let out a breath of sweet relief
Knowing that I haven't grown numb just yet.
But the "yet" sends a chill down my
s
p
i
n
e
Because "yet" means soon.
& the "yet" means I can't escape.

you radiated more than
the sun, and shone
brighter than the moon
on a cloudless night, and
for some
reason you decided
that i was
worth your time.

i spent nights wondering
why you even
gave me the time
of day and
i still don't know
the answer
to that, but
i'm happy that
you did because you
are possibly the
best thing to
ever happen to me.

I write to convey purpose and meaning
Or for honor (or any notice) to gleam on myself
The prolific of all writers
Had hardly such in their motivation

They wrote in their sorrow,
In the blackness of the night
They wrote not for their revered name—
But for what they truly found *right

it seems I am out of place
filled with vacant conversations
and a weary heart
I'm not suicidal
but
I don't want to breath,
Breathing is thinking
I don't want to think.
I don't want to feel.
it seems I am out of place
and a weary heart and heavy mind are not easily mended with vacant conversations
I'm not suicidal
I just want this void to fill.