a few years ago i saw something which read,
chin up, kid. they'd kill to see you fall.
and i got happier after that.
i'll admit, i got happier after that.
reading that fueled me with..
something i hadn't felt in a while.
and maybe i did it out of sheer pettiness
or spite
because i know, i know they hate when i am happy
i know that when someone who did you wrong
sees you bright and vibrant
i know that is the biggest revenge
one could ever give
and looking back on that foolish, immature
version of me
i see something else.
i don't see a victory.
i see a broken kid
who would do anything
to convince someone else that they hadn't won
that they're still fighting
that they're not weak
that they're not a coward.
i see a kid barely keeping it together
sanity and hope held together by a thread
wearing ever so thin with each passing day
i see a kid
who wasn't weak or cowardice
but a kid who tried their best
a kid who fought with all they could
i don't see a kid
i see a veteran.
but i just wish
that i could go back in time
and cradle my hand against my past self's cheek
stare her right in the eyes
and say,
do not be happy out of spite or pettiness for others
be happy for yourself, for you and for you only.
and i could
i could, easily
for she would not recognize me.
hell, we don't even have our pronouns in common.
i changed our hair
i changed our gender
i changed our clothes
i changed our preferences
i changed our music
i changed us.
no, there's not even an us anymore.
and i came back
with my past self's limp body in my arms
bloody, broken, bruised, scarred, suffering
not from me, but just from everyone in her daily life
and through shaking breaths she said to me,
please, please do it. kill me. please, kill me.
so i laid her down in front of me
and respectfully ended her life.
i buried her among the stars.
yes, i killed my past self.
it was not murder.
