Fighting The Inner War
#Productivity #Lifestyle #Poetry

Today I died in my dreams
This time I saw my flesh floating in helplessness
I felt some dejavu vibes of what they did to my inner self
I have watched as I sank my soul in a casket that was swept away by the waves

I've lost too many times that I still want to die trying
Maybe no one may understand the blood we shed on our battlefields
This fight, we don't talk about it without getting silenced by the smears of stigma
"Cowardice. Weak souls that can't man up and face their challenges."
So we slowly die on the inside.

I have known depression and I have sipped clean anxiety
Like the guest coming in uninvited and dares never to leave
I have stuffed him with clouds of smoke tainting my lungs
I have known high as just a yearn of one second of numbness and nothingness
I have drunk my soul out like I'm trying to drown my pain yet all it ever swept away was my dignity
I have watched the world like some amusement park I escaped into and can't find my way back
The world has spread us apart like dandelion seeds to the wind
And I'm lost in the middle of nowhere with a rope in my hand.

Self love didn't come first, or second or ever
It was swept by the resentment painted in my bones like willows
Mirrors became monsters and the pain I had cut into my wrists was enough to teach you how to read pain in braille

Insomnia was the ocean my mind baptized it's loneliness into, so don't tell me to be silent about this words, it's the only way I drag my monsters to the cage,except this time the jail was my mind

Maybe Rogue didn't have to curve sculptures around her body to protect those around her
What do you do when your touch is volcano
Like an explosive that hurts everything around but itself
Like a stray bullet not knowing where it might land
Maybe the juice ain't worth the squeeze
Maybe it's not our job to fix everyone

I'm just a sinking ship loosing trails of depth 
A bandaged soul soaked in vulnerability
A lost soul dancing to the tunes of poetry
This words are the pillars that holds my world from falling
Maybe this is not art
Maybe this is not poetry
Maybe I'm not lost this is just the way
Maybe this is not a poem
This is just a stitch I'm mending into my soul
Maybe the scars on my skin are just a map that leads us home to each other.