no, i am not myself without bearing my fears
upon leaving my skin and bones bare
to blister in the open, poisonous air.

no, i am not myself without bearing my scars
with which i have been gradually burned with when people caressed my brittle bones and twisted spine

truly, i am without my flaws,
yet i admire their rawness and boldness; that i have started to wear these fears and scars
as if they are a **** warrior's armor.

truly, the love i have met is bitter;
and i find myself devoid of such desire

but can you love me despite loving all that i am and will never be?

in other words...

can you love me through the chaos that sometimes defines me?
can you wrap your warmth around my flawed edges and still love me?

all upon the knowledge that..

i will be wearing my armor;
my scars will be well dressed;
and if you attempt to burn me, I will show no fear.

-boonthemoonluv

You were small once.
With wide eyes.

You saw the world.
In an array of colours.

In another life.
You'd be a great inventor.

Instead you grew.
Too fast.
Too soon.

You were born.
To make mistakes.

If only you knew.
If only you flew.

To the world.
You became a flaw.

Your  life was jinxed.
From the beginning.

You weren't born a fighter.
Yet became one in chaos.

You lost everything.
You lost everyone.

Will they ever understand?
All you ever was trying to do?
Was help?

They'll never understand.
The reason you became,
Something else.

I cried again last night,
I just hate doing that.
I hate how uncontrollably my tears fall,
How they just roll off my eyes, smash my pillow at free will,
While I try with all my might to not let the sounds of cry escape my lips.

I hate feeling so helpless,
I hate the dampness of my pillow in the morning,
I hate that I have to wake up before everyone else so I can fix my eyes,
I hate that I made this my norm.

Honestly I'm tired...
I'm tired of hiding my pain,
I'm tired of hiding my sadness,
I'm tired of hiding my anger,
I'm tired of hiding my breakdowns.

I don't want to be the strong one anymore.
No one checks up on the strong one.
I don't want to live under these assumptions of being a fighter,
I can't even hold up a fist.
I don't want to be dealt these cards anymore and be told to just make it work.

I'm tired,
I am so so tired.
I'm exhausted.
Just... depleted.

My body is broken
But doesn't really matter
How badly beat up I get
My soul still wants
To pick a fight

I guess we fighters
Are just made like that
We never really know
When and how to quit
We're too **** tough
For our own good

We just want that fire
So we keep pushing
On and forward
Forward and on

This is what I see when I look at you,
someone that the world has beaten down over and over
yet this has only made you stronger instead of a victim

someone that has pulled himself out of the darkness countless times
only to have it make him brighter

I see someone who has been lost with no direction
yet created a map through the unknown to guide you home

I see someone who has fought
someone that gives his all
someone that loves so hard he sometimes forgets to love himself

I see someone that has the world waiting at his fingers tips
someone that deserves peace
someone I am more than proud of

I wish you could see yourself through my eyes