Looking into my beaten and bloodied hands,
covered in calluses.
I can only think that they are a reflection of me,
damaged and disfigured to the point of disrepair.
Life has taught me to live as if I am one big callus,
adapting to survive all the external pain.
External pain is something I can handle,
but what of the internal?
Trying to fight off what comes from the outside and inside,
something has got to give.
Focusing on my outward defenses, my insides swell,
while protecting my innermost ring leaves me battered and bruised.
I am unsalvageable, there's no rescuing me.
Turn back, save yourself.
I refuse to be an anchor to your balloon,
dragging you down and out of the sunshine.
Apr 14, 2014
Apr 14, 2014 at 6:37 PM UTC
Looking into my beaten and bloodied hands,
covered in calluses.
I can only think that they are a reflection of me,
damaged and disfigured to the point of disrepair.
Life has taught me to live as if I am one big callus,
adapting to survive all the external pain.
External pain is something I can handle,
but what of the internal?
Trying to fight off what comes from the outside and inside,
something has got to give.
Focusing on my outward defenses, my insides swell,
while protecting my innermost ring leaves me battered and bruised.
I am unsalvageable, there's no rescuing me.
Turn back, save yourself.
I refuse to be an anchor to your balloon,
dragging you down and out of the sunshine.
