The Piece of the Matter

 I’m starting to realize is that  
there are many ways a person dies    
while they’re still alive...  
   
It’s walking past the mirror and having to glance twice because you don’t recognize the face that stands before you  
   
Maybe it’s from all the added pain you carry around that’s slowly and progressively taking its toll    
   
Or maybe it’s the darkness that was once just a quiet little flame buried deep within    
that now casts a darkened shadow    
that seems to widen as each minute passes.    
   
It’s the way life and everyone around you seems to move at a pace you can’t keep up with  
   
It’s the longer than usual internal conversation you have to have to convince yourself to get out of bed in the morning to face another day.    
   
It’s all the little conversations you have to have with yourself to get through the day with just a shred of normalcy.    
   
And when that all fails,    
and the waves come crashing in,  
it’s being curled up in a ball    
in a darkened room  
crying and begging to be released  
from the burdens you bear    
and the demons that haunt you.  
   
It’s questioning everything you’ve ever done to deserve this    
And wondering just how much more you can take before you finally break.  
   
It’s feeling like you’re drowning    
then realizing you’re in the shallow end  
 and all you have to do, is stand up.  
But being betrayed by the fact that your legs can’t hold your weight,    
So you’re left frantically thrashing around,    
barely keeping your head above the water.  
   
It’s the same little girl that desperately prayed to be invisible who now wants nothing more than to be finally seen.    
   
It’s spending your life running from love only to fall hard for a man whose afflictions consume you    
   
It’s giving everything you have to those around you even though you may have very little left to give  
   
It’s believing that maybe your legacy all along is to leave every person better than you found them.    
   
It’s everything that was meant to destroy you but you somehow managed to live through.  
Because although you came out the other side still breathing,    
you never make it out unchanged and unscathed.    
   
It’s standing there,    
with your dress tattered and torn,    
bleeding and  broken,  
covered in bruises and ash,    
And somehow convincing yourself    
to put one foot in front of the other    
   
It’s jadedly persevering    
All the while, choosing to remain    
gentle and kind,    
refusing to become    
bitter, resentful, or hateful.    
   
It’s declining to give in or give up,  
staying steadfastly directed towards the light    
at the end of the tunnel,    
No matter how bleak or faded it may seem.    
   
You see,  
It doesn’t happen all at once.  
It’s seemingly frivolous    
observably trivial  
yet lingeringly creeps up on you  
   
It’s a piece at a time    
Sometimes big  
Sometimes small  
Everything takes a piece  
Until there’s nothing left at all