I fought a war
I won
Maybe
See, sometimes I’m not sure if I did
because the war is over
but my hands are still dripping red
they drip all over this better future I’m trying to build

I am opening the ledger to my childhood
I can taste dust, sweat, and tears
I can taste innocence again
only now it feels wrong
like I should have known better
They took home from me
gave me scraps and told me to grow
"Big and strong baby you have battles to fight."
years later I am finally learning
how to take a deep breath
without my own blood choking at my lungs
with only my mistakes to pay the consequences for
I drip far less over this better future I am building


-Would you call me a martyr if I told you how many times I sacrificed myself for my future?