I really hate when people say, "just get through it."
Do they not understand the animosity it takes to breath through broken ribs?
Because when your kicked till your down,
And your kicked still on the ground,
How will you get through it when there is no one there to reach out a hand,
Pull you up,
And say, "it will be okay."
Because there is nobody there.
Nobody to take the blows that defeat your lungs,
To soften the hits that crack your bones.
They won't dust you off and pat your back.
But they'll watch the losing battle and tell you to carry on with swollen eyes and blood stained lips.