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.