It is better to die on your feet than to live on your knees.
-Emiliano Zapata.
The sky is falling apart.
Maybe it knows I'm falling apart.
Everything falls apart these days.
Sometimes, I'm not sure if life makes sense.
Sometimes, I'm not sure if I'm alive.
Some days go by in a blur of blood and bruises and tears and screams, and I'm not even sure if life is worth living.
For 14 years, this life is all I've known: Do something wrong, and you will pay dearly for it.
But every man has a breaking point, and today?
Today was mine.
I gotta get out.
I'm sitting on the floor, and I'm not sure if it's shaking or if I am. Blood is dripping from my nose, my lip hurts like fuck, my whole body is on fire.
My ribs feel like they're being teared apart, my head is throbbing, I'm pretty sure I'm gonna need stitches, and I m willing to bet my hand is dislocated.
I hear thunder echo in the distance and shiver as the ear shattering sound reaches me.
I hate what he can do to me.
I hate that I can't stop him.
I hate what this place does to me.
I hate that the darkness brings so much pain and suffering.
But the darkness also awakens the voice in my head screaming for me to run, to run as far away and as fast as possible.
GET OUT, GET OUT it says.
I can't, he won't stop looking, I usually answer.
But today I make a choice: I'm going to find a way, is what I say.
I'm gonna get outta here, and when I do, I'm never coming back.
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