the thing is,
we've all waged war on ourselves.
we've all been warriors against our
own body,
our own mind,
thoughts.
we've all told ourselves
that the things we create are not good enough,
that our hearts are not strong enough,
that we are so small compared to this sinking earth,
and we could never do anything about it except
scream and scream
from someplace high
until someone hears us,
saves us.
we've all torn
our bodies apart
whether it be with our fingers,
guiding razors, scratches,
adorning our precious skin with
purple bruises,
red slashes.
whether it be with our state of
mind,
shrinking ourselves,
pitying ourselves.
whether it be the
acceptance of heartbreak,
and the un-willingness to let it go.
we try to find salvation
in tiny, bitter pills,
try to find love in our medication.
the thing is,
we've all held battlegrounds within ourselves
and we're still so unkind.
we've been a shelter for ****** genocides
of creativity, and
we've held car crashes
of broken trains of thought,
in our screaming and thrumming mind.
we've held bombs within us,
exploding, shattering inside,
lodging us with
painful reminders of what it is
to be human,
alive.
the thing is,
we're all war veterans,
with both hidden and violent scars
from fighting
the lethal battle that is
raging within.
and that's okay.
just know
that you will win someday.
Feb 3, 2014
Feb 3, 2014 at 10:25 AM UTC
the thing is,
we've all waged war on ourselves.
we've all been warriors against our
own body,
our own mind,
thoughts.
we've all told ourselves
that the things we create are not good enough,
that our hearts are not strong enough,
that we are so small compared to this sinking earth,
and we could never do anything about it except
scream and scream
from someplace high
until someone hears us,
saves us.
we've all torn
our bodies apart
whether it be with our fingers,
guiding razors, scratches,
adorning our precious skin with
purple bruises,
red slashes.
whether it be with our state of
mind,
shrinking ourselves,
pitying ourselves.
whether it be the
acceptance of heartbreak,
and the un-willingness to let it go.
we try to find salvation
in tiny, bitter pills,
try to find love in our medication.
the thing is,
we've all held battlegrounds within ourselves
and we're still so unkind.
we've been a shelter for ****** genocides
of creativity, and
we've held car crashes
of broken trains of thought,
in our screaming and thrumming mind.
we've held bombs within us,
exploding, shattering inside,
lodging us with
painful reminders of what it is
to be human,
alive.
the thing is,
we're all war veterans,
with both hidden and violent scars
from fighting
the lethal battle that is
raging within.
and that's okay.
just know
that you will win someday.
