fighter

I Die - February 15, 2012

I'm drowning in this ocean of pain,

And burning in this acid rain.

I'm falling through memories;

Slowly killing me, is this disease.

 

Every night I try to change,

What thoughts run through my head.

But I cannot help,

To what events this may have lead.

 

It kills me every time,

I have to say goodbye,

To the times with no pain;

No suffering in vain.

 

I die from bleeding inside,

The blood pours on the floor.

I die from fatal suicide,

I couldn't take it anymore.

 

I took a kitchen knife,

Or a razor and a lighter.

I ended my life;

I was never any fighter.

 

I've given up on life,

I've given up on me.

I've given up on everything;

Said it cannot be.

 

I've ended my being,

All so you could be free.

I want you to see,

As I end all of me.

 

Now that I'm no more,

My corpse lies on the floor.

Now that I never speak again,

Will you have the strength I never gained?

 

My end, though,

Was a group contribution.

It was thanks to me, and to them,

That led to my execution.

 

Our hearts, our love, it never bends,

But this is how my story ends.

I understand if you cried,

If you hurt when I died.

 

But listen to me now,

You still have time,

Before the pain overcomes

Your whole being, like mine.

 

Run away from it all,

Run away from your past.

I may be dead,

But you will still last.

 

Everything will be all right,

I promise you that, dear.

I'll be in your heart every night;

My spirit will lay near.

 

For the rest of your life,

For the rest of forever,

I can't ever let you forget,

When we were together.

 

Every once in a while,

Will you think of me?

The memories will last,

They will always be.

 

It was not at all your fault,

That I don't live anymore.

I was my own and others;

You I'll always adore.

 

Many years will have passed,

And I will be forgot.

You'll live a better life,

Now that I've died and rot.

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Fighter

 

I'm tired of fighting. 

Nobody asked me if I wanted to be a fighter.

I don't want to be selfish and quit.

But putting on this armor every day weighs on my body and soul.

I'm exhausted.

Just once, I want someone to help me take care of me. 

Someone to assist me in my struggles, not because I ask, but because they want to.

No judgements passed. 

Someone who will help me to remove some of this armor and put it on themselves and not fight for me, but fight with me.

Someone to help me carry the weight of my past.

With shoulders strong enough to hold the insecurities in my tears.

I can't fight anymore.

Not alone.

Bullets of reality hit my shields and deflect but always leave their mark.

A small dent or scratch.

My once new armor now looks worn.

Let me lay down my sword. 

I don't want to fight anymore. 

Let me press pause while I undress myself and stand up tall, fully exposed in front of you. 

If you would like to pick up my armor off the ground and wear it for a while and protect me, I would be forever grateful. 

But I don't expect you it. 

Although I spent so many years shielding you.

But that's who I am.

I'm a fighter. 

But nobody asked me if I wanted to be a fighter. 

So today...

I quit.

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