When you feel like
you’ve done your best..,
but they keep fuckin’ coming,
little bastards just
picking away at your soul —
like it’s a fucking game, or something,
relentless sons of bitches
that won’t even let you breathe,
no matter how many times
you’ve fought this battle
the scars remain,
never letting you forget
that you can’t win.
The wounds of the past
open up inside of you
spilling out
through the now
gaping wholes in your soul,
your damaged body
wrecked with the unmistakable
signs of an unforgiving world
refuses to beg for mercy,
so you take all that they have
still holding onto
the hope of one last breath,
until the hammer drops
and darkness engulfs
any remaining light.
You will not walk away
from this fight,
it is part of who you are,
it came specifically for you
and you bear
the burden of its weight,
the world implodes
inside the shadows of your mind,
leaving only traces
of the person you used to be,
memories clear as day
start fade into the darkness,
like the short
shallow breath of the dying,
before they exhale one last time,
finally free --
of all the bullshit and fear.
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