Today ive realized.
That my voice is silence.
My words are nothing.
I die with only my pride.
There is this war i am fighting.
With my body.
And my mind.
But i do not fight whats inside.
My lover is my lover.
And nobody in between.
My mind is my mind.
And my body is alive.
So sharpen those sticks.
On both ends i'll suggest.
I have some bows and arrows.
And i have myself on my side.
A one woman show.
A one hearted glow.
A one minded love.
A two handed bow.
I will make it.
On my own.
Though my words mean nothing.
And nothing is my voice.
I will fight this war called life.
With only this bow of a poem.
YOU ARE READING
My war.
PoetryI have been diagnosed, ripped apart, shot down, kicked around. But ill be on broadway. Even if i have to buy a street, name it broadway and perform. In all seriousness, instead of sleeping forever, i wrote out my war.
