Some days I want to die.
Some days all my trauma catches up to me. On these days, I stare at the drugs, the knives, the cords.
And I know how easy it would be. Something I can fully control.
But with all I know, I stop and think.
I think of you, and I know I won't be doing this.
Not now, not today at least.
I also know one thing. I am a survivor, I am a fighter.
And I don't lose.
I don't lose to those who did their best to break me, and, they did their damn best, believe me.
I don't give up on my dreams.
There will be a day when my name is printed in the history books, across magazine covers, or a day when I'm standing in the hall of fame, staring at my name.
A name the world will know.
Because I don't lose to them, not now, not ever.
I will be somebody, somebody to remember.
YOU ARE READING
Head, Heart, and Soul
PoesíaTW: Contains use of profane language, suicidal thoughts, depictions and/or mentions of violent or otherwise disturbing acts, mentions of mental health issues, and other things that may be triggering to some audiences. Read at your own discretion, an...
