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daydreams-and-wildflowersPoems
I may have won the war with myself white flags raised therapy words stacked like sandbags boundaries drawn in clean, responsible lines. I learned how to stop begging How to swallow my instinct to chase How to stand still while my body screamed that love is supposed to run toward the fire. I learned restraint I learned silence I learned how to let go without clawing the doorframe on the way out They call that growth They clap for that They say look how strong you are now as if strength doesn’t sometimes feel exactly like amputation. Because I won I did everything right I didn’t lose myself in you I saved myself And somehow that cost me the only thing I was ever willing to bleed for You If this is what victory looks like standing upright in a body that doesn’t feel like mine breathing without purpose healed but hollow then I don’t deserve the medal Don’t tell me I survived I would have chosen the trenches Mud in my mouth Hands shaking Heart exposed and beating loud enough to give away my position I would rather be slaughtered with my heart still in my hands still offering itself than stand here “healed” with nothing left worth fighting for If this is the cost of winning this clean, quiet, lonely aftermath then I didn’t win a war I just learned how to live without the only thing that ever made me feel worth saving
0
Dec 29, 2025
Dec 29, 2025 at 8:49 AM UTC
The Cost
I may have won the war with myself white flags raised therapy words stacked like sandbags boundaries drawn in clean, responsible lines. I learned how to stop begging How to swallow my instinct to chase How to stand still while my body screamed that love is supposed to run toward the fire. I learned restraint I learned silence I learned how to let go without clawing the doorframe on the way out They call that growth They clap for that They say look how strong you are now as if strength doesn’t sometimes feel exactly like amputation. Because I won I did everything right I didn’t lose myself in you I saved myself And somehow that cost me the only thing I was ever willing to bleed for You If this is what victory looks like standing upright in a body that doesn’t feel like mine breathing without purpose healed but hollow then I don’t deserve the medal Don’t tell me I survived I would have chosen the trenches Mud in my mouth Hands shaking Heart exposed and beating loud enough to give away my position I would rather be slaughtered with my heart still in my hands still offering itself than stand here “healed” with nothing left worth fighting for If this is the cost of winning this clean, quiet, lonely aftermath then I didn’t win a war I just learned how to live without the only thing that ever made me feel worth saving
Written by
daydreams-and-wildflowers
26/F
Dec 29, 2025
Dec 29, 2025 at 8:49 AM UTC
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