How do you explain the aftermath of battle?
To someone who has never heard of war.
Yes, there is the blood and the bruises,
But I cannot explain how my brain is sore.

Just like you will never unlearn an answer:
I will never un-feel his hands around my throat.
The words were anchors on my ankles,
When to live I had to float.

Your body heals quickly,
And eventually so does your mind.
But you remain changed: a different person
Reminded by scars left behind.

It’s hard to fight the urge
To defend the person I learned to be.
The fight always has it’s tole,
even once you’re free.

When my brain and body fought in war:
I bled and burned and hid and cried.
And now all I can do is apologize
To the person who survived.

Valentines, yeah, I've had a few

Secret admirers? dozens

Broken hearts? A couple of those too.

Crazy adventures? Oh, Plenty!

Blessings, too many to count,

Miracles certainly!

But, nothing, nothing compares to you

My love,

the best part of my best days

The highest of my highs

In my darkest days

And longest nights

You ******* alive!

I know implicitly,

You are the one

the title is yours

The best thing keeping me up is the people who try to tear me down.

Silence shrieks down hollow halls
And I long to hide behind the curtains.
There is no warmth to be found.
There is no joy to be heard reverberating back.
I glance over my shoulder in hope that I have made a wrong turn & you will be behind me;
There to rescue me.
There to hold my hand.
You aren't.
You never were.
I was always holding my own hand
& saving my own skin.
I wonder know who it was
That was really needed here.

Have you ever noticed the stutter in my words or the way I can’t control my paranoia? My spiteful eyes and cracked lips still forced into a smile, trying to prove everyone that I’m a fighter. No one ever bothered to hold me close, to tell me it’s okay to not be fine. So I run through my life as if it’s a battlefield, hoping that one day I can live and not just survive.

I’ll accept you
If you accept me
If you can endure my stories and scars
And reach through the bars.

You are not alone
In loving with your whole.

Scars in my opinion are beautiful
Not something to be hidden, but something to behold.
Scars have turned a person into who they are today
And without them a person would never be the same.

Everyone has insecurities
That form their personality
Their fears and what bring them to tears
Their mind and what makes them kind
Their heart and what pulls them apart
Individuality
Is what i find most endearing.

So tell me,
All your stories theories and your favorite series.
I’d genuinely like to know
What drives you, what IS your soul?

Complicated?
Differences that make you not like the rest?
I personally think people like that are the best.
Those who have gone through life
And have survived their fights.