I am not a laundry list of symptoms
Brought on by endless assaults of a developing mind
I am not the carnage left behind by all the people who have failed me
The complications in my brain in no way lower the scale of my worthiness
And I in no way deserve to feel as if my resilience has morphed me into
a burden to love
Because I have survived far too much in my quarter life
And I’ve been forced to become a warrior in a lifelong battle that I never wanted any part of
But I’ve never let the battlefield turn me into a pit of boundless bitterness
Instead here I still stand a beacon of light
A lighthouse in an unrelenting storm
Now the lights can flicker on occasion
But I always find a way to shine back through the sea of dark pewter sky and into my
ocean of optimistic empathy
And my light deserves to be more than tolerated
It deserves to be seen.