the thing is you think i will be fine but step in my shoes, live my life, see through my eyes, tell me im fine, tell me that you fine living in my shoes, my life, seeing things through my eyes, you would be in tears if you could  read my mind, people say im weak for walking away but im not, im the strong one that can live through out the pain

Pain is something you feel at all times of every day once it happens
It never goes away fully you just adapt to it like it becomes your heartbeat
You survive off of the expectation for it to thump against your chest
Even when your muscles feel like they won't ever move again, they do. And that's what you come to understand is moving on. But just because you move in does not mean your pain leaves you, it becomes as temporary as a tattoo you got when you were drunk. It's carved into your generic code and don't you dare try to remove it because it will be unseccessful and painful, leaving you empty

I have an intimate relationship with
Pain

Lustrous Brightness
Blinding the darkness
I am your saving grace

The light shines so bright
She can feel it with closed eyes
Scared of sudden splendour
Unsure if she can handle
So she blinks just once but thinks twice
Keeps her eyes closed and instead
Waits for the brightness to fade
Into something she’s used to
She knows she can handle
Comfortably numb she waits
For her eyes to adjust to
What they only had a glimpse of
What she thinks she can’t face
With the naked eye
If she would just catch sight and see
That there won’t be a different light
That those eyes will only really see
When wide open to soak up
The radiance surrounding her
Blurring the fear of ever really looking
As far as the eye can see

What if the dark side isn't dark
but white pure light,
beautiful, innocent.
A perfect disguise.
Devil in white.

Said the little boy, "Sometimes I drop my spoon."
Said the old man, "I do that too."
The little boy whispered, "I wet my pants."
"I do that too," laughed the little old man.
Said the little boy, "I often cry."
The old man nodded, "So do I."
"But worst of all," said the boy, "it seems
Grown-ups don't pay attention to me."
And he felt the warmth of a wrinkled old hand.
"I know what you mean," said the little old man.