Have I truly known loss?
Death is yet to plague me or the people I love,
Those decaying claws are yet to rip through my blurred horizons,
I am yet to hear the rasping breath on the back of my feeble neck,
That whispers: "It's over"

Betrayal has made its mark,
But more often I felt their icy hands diving through my chest before those talons could grasp my heart,
I found that even when my preconceived ideals grew to be false,
Slowly building a barbed cage around me,
I was able to turn on my heel and leave the way I came: Trust.

My heart has broken just once,
The two halves healed,
The serrated blade with which love carved my soul left only superficial wounds,
To restore my heart I needed little more than time,
And one other medicine: Friendship.

Despair,
I wish I'd never known you,
Your inviting arms were laced with poisons,
Loneliness, self-loathing and hopelessness fed on my brain,
Removing emotions with grotesque precision,
But you too we're defeated easily: I am better now.

In the end I lost no more than I gained,
But each possession felt more precious as they were ripped away,
But what I have come to realise is that my perception of what loss is has been warped,
And now the years of anguish and pointless tears seem all the more meaningless.
Who am I to complain when others have far greater loads than me?
Even those who helped me are weighed down by much heavier burdens,
So now I have found a new goal:
Prove that loss did not win.