When giving up sounds sweet,
remember -

the bags under your eyes
the tears within your heart
the scars beneath your skin -

the sophisticated bittersweet taste of success.

so i did.
i bit down the shaft,
as if it was my morning whiskey,
feeling the way the cartridge gave up under my teeth.

Every time my back ached,
i pressed down harder.
The bullet became my Achilles heel.
My life —> the arrow.

Until one day i felt the gunpowder on my tongue,
it made my mouth crackled and my tongue sour.
"Shhhhh," it said.
Calm and reassuring.

Bite the bullet they said,
I bit until i felt my molars grinding,
and my tongue blackened.
‘Til the bang marked the end.

i'll confess
i have thought about giving up a thousand times
i'm scared, lonely, exhausted

and every time i've been used like a punching bag
i've wanted to stay down
hoping that by ignoring the pain, that it'll go away

tired of routine, of commitment,
i wish i could stop caring,
but if i stopped, what would i live for?

so i get up everyday,
limping, hopping, crawling if i have to,
cuz one day it'll be worth it