You are not lost.
You are not irreversibly damaged.
You are not irreparably broken.
You are not bound by fear.
And as long as we are alive, we will not be afraid to live!

Quit letting your counselor try to dig up reasons from your childhood to justify why you're damaged.
Maybe we are damaged, but maybe blaming the people who ****** us over will only lead to a life of bitterness and revenge seeking.
Yes, we are hurt!
Yes, we are young and yes, we are lonely but as long as we are alive, we will not be afraid to live!

Quit letting your church make you feel broken.
Maybe we are a little cracked in places, but those pieces are still glued together by the blood that beats in our hearts.
We are whole!
We are a living art with flaws and chips in our armor and scars that line our arms  but as long as we are alive, we will not be afraid to live!

Quit letting your parents tell you that you've lost your way.
No, we haven't lost our way!
We are still here!
We are drunk on hope but as long as we are alive, we will not be afraid to be live!

Quit letting your society make you feel like you can't do the things you want to because of the fear that it has places on you.
Maybe we are a little scared, but maybe that terror is only there to remind us that there are things more important than fear.
Be scared!
Be horrified on the days when you feel your disorder is stronger than you,
and gawk at how your hands shake when you kiss your lover even though you'd break your mother's heart if she knew you were gay;
because as long as we are alive, we will not be afraid to be live!

Keep getting drunk!
Keep kissing the wrong person!
Keep cursing under your breath when you're forced to sit through a 2 hour church service!
Keep rolling your eyes at that teacher that you know is secretly a racist!
Keep making the same mistakes over and over and over again,
but as long as we are alive, we will not be afraid to live!

So what if you really, really hate pets?
So what if you just can't seem to take the public school education system seriously?
So what if you can't seem to wrap your mind around a God who is supposed to love us, but is cruel enough to put us through all of the world's awful antics?
So what you secretly cannot stand spending time with your grandparents?
So what that Christmas is the worst time of the year for you?
So what if you have trouble getting out of bed or looking people in the eye?
So what if your hands shake when there isn't a cigarette between your fingers?
So what if you just can't quit watching gay **** even though you swear you're straight?

What does any of that mean to you, anyway?
What does how you choose to live your life mean?
What do the little quirks and the bad habits and the curses that have been cast upon you mean?

It means that you are living.
It means that there are billions of coffins buried six feet under piles of dirt and bugs, with crumbling tombstones that do not have your name engraved on them.
It means there are billions of breathing humans that are buried under society's rules and expectations and standards, that have their names engraved on office cubicles and restaurant name tags.
It means there are billions of dead people in cemetery's and there are billions of dead men walking, but you are not one of them.
And as long as we are alive, we will not be afraid to live!


You are not bound by fear.
You are not irreparably broken.
You are not irreversibly damaged.
You are not lost** -
you have found yourself here, in this poem.
And as long as we are alive, we will not be afraid to live!

And love is really important,
even if just for one night.
It can chase away your biggest fears,
it can get your through your toughest fight.

Don't let society make you feel cheap
for only needing love in small, temporary amounts.
Your value as a person
isn't derived from your *** partner count.

Don't let them make you feel ***** or small,
because some of us need this to survive.
The night of love we get from strangers,
we use just to stay alive.

Because relationships can be messy,
and hearts are so easily broken.
But through nights of whisky and hotel rooms,
we find words of peace that were never spoken.

And some of us don't have hearts,
as they were stolen long ago.
From men called "Dad"
and men in suits,
and men who we've never known.

And maybe the word "****" makes the people feel okay.
This type of labeling has been going on since the Biblical days.
Maybe it makes them feel better about their own sinful ways.
Maybe when the Earth crumbles, they'll have a price to pay.

Because they don't know what it's like to be empty for so long,
That the thought of being full terrifies you.
They don't know that you'd rather be wrong,
than risk the pain that being right can put you through.

But I do, my dear.
For I am one of you.
I've felt closer to heaven in the arms of strangers
than I ever have kneeling on a pew.

I know what you dream of, darling.
I know that you dream of lasting and healing love.
I know that you feel prisoner by your demons,
I know you hope for a sign from above.

Don't let the world bother you much.
I understand you; I know you're doing your best.
For now, it's okay to find comfort in a stranger's touch,
to let love fall from your mouth.
To let pain flow from of your chest.