as a child,
i always dreamt of saving the world.
i dreamt of flying above lands of unknown,
rescuing people and making a name for myself.
i imagined being known across the galaxies,
cape and all.
arriving just in time to be the savior, starting revolutions, leading a rebellion, eyes sparkling and lighting up as the reflection swarmed in the blue.
i would be selfless.
i would take a bullet for someone, i would go out guns blazing.
i would become a legend, people would scream my name on the battlefield.
in the battlecry.
i would not just be a nobody.
i would be one of the names written within the hall of fame.
i wouldn't do it for glory, no.
never.
but i always dreamt that one day my adventure would come
that one day
i would open the gates to hell
and reign down heaven.
i would move mountains, part the seas.
i would be a hero.
but instead
i fought a war within myself
i broke and i screamed my name
i screamed it trying to remember what it meant
what it was.
i screamed and cried and i begged for my life
i suffered and let myself be tortured
because someone promised me they would do no harm to the people i loved
if i would let him shatter me
and i agreed.
i drowned and i suffocated
i burned alive and i cut myself on my own fractures and broken pieces
i died again and again bathed in my own blood
copper streaked my face and tears ran down, forming a path between the blood and dirt.
i was on the ground and i was on my knees
but not once
not once did i ever let my chin fall.
if i was to shatter
i would do it with my head held high.
even if i was dying, even if i was in agonizing pain and at the mercy of an enemy, even with no honor i would fucking do it with my chin held high, no matter how much of a facade it was.
it didn't matter if it was fake or not.
because it sent a message.
i was told by someone that i was the strongest person they know
because i fight others' battles while fighting my own
and they said that makes me amazing
that makes me extraordinary
i don't want to be amazing if this was what it was
i don't want to be extraordinary if this is what it is
i don't want to be a hero
if this is what it means.
and i cut my wrists and i watched the blood drop and drop onto the shower floor.
i watched how it flowed and faded into orange upon contact with the water and i watched every last bit of my sanity go down that drain.
i watched as my vision became dizzy.
i watched as i stumbled and ran into the door
i watched myself die for seven years
and i would for four more.
five.
six seven eight
i've known a lifetime of suffering
i've known grief since i was eight years old
i understand a cry for help even if it's said without the move of a mouth
i understood the look she gave him
i would know it anywhere.
that look that said so many things at once
i knew that look
i invented that look.
and he told me he knew exactly what i'd been hiding
the moment i said it to him
and maybe my face fell
maybe i crumbled
maybe i knew i was fucked long before i knew what
agony meant
maybe i was always destined for this.
to die every night and wake up the next day
maybe i was destined for this.
it's july 2018 and i crawled through hell on my knees with a broken leg and severed arm but i fucking made it and if my existence isn't the biggest fuck you then i don't know what is.
but no, that's childish.
what i actually want to say
is that i stopped caring.
i let myself die and i was no longer responsible for myself
my life laid in the hands of anyone who cared
and i guess i had to trust them with my life
i guess i have to trust them
after all, what else can i do?
i didn't choose to stop caring.
i didn't choose to become so reckless with my self, my life.
but i guess i have to trust them
i guess i've got to.
but the thing is
even after all i've done
all the demons that tied strings and made me dance
even after what happened
i was never less of a hero.
not for one second.
because i wouldn't know this till so many years later
because no one would tell me
and if i could i would go back and just hug me and tell them,
it's okay. it's okay. it's going to be okay.
and since no one is here to tell you, i will.
you don't have to save a million people
or walk upon a battlefield
to be a hero.
you don't have to do something with your life for it to be important.
you don't have to anything to be worth something.
you didn't ask to be made
and conquering the world isn't the fucking rent you pay to exist.
the ones who saved themselves are as much of a hero as the ones who saved everyone else.
it takes a few years to develop the physical strength for a war
but it takes one a lifetime
to gain the mental strength
to fight.
and so i will tell you now
you do not have to be a hero
you don't have to save everyone.
because saving yourself, that is more than enough.
just saving yourself
that is enough.
"it's okay if you only save one person
and it's okay if that person is you."
your existence alone
is an act of rebellion.
never forget it.
you are not the exception.
