Put you close to my heart
and tell you that you are
*so ******* beautiful.*
I want so badly
to kiss every inch
of your battle weary skin,
whispering sweet nothings
about how terrifyingly beautiful the jagged,
taunting lines are.
But I cannot bear to encourage this war.
You are beautiful because
you saw ugliness
and you saw pain,
yet your faith in the world,
or God, or humans,
or something,
made you stay and witness more
despite your own suffocating darkness.
But I will not encourage this war.
The faceless, jeering voices inside -
they are not real.
They will not win.
They are bullies in a pre-school courtyard.
It's hard to walk away but
eventually you learn to tune them out.
Their unworldly presence is not beautiful
so they take over your mind to compensate.
End this war.
The casualties canceled out any victory
the moment blood was first spilt.