THIS IS NOT A POEM

This is not another poem for butterflies in the stomach

Nor a tribute to the self-concept or the world around it

Not even a random inspiration of my pen, or trauma dumbing  

This is just my fingers dancing with a turmoil

May be the lack of sleep or vitamins, or fight flight mode

May be the cold I feel inside my frozen heart

"You are not alone" they say, but nobody is around

"This is temporary" they say but the more we focus on how much it lasts, the longer it gets

"Be grateful" they say but they haven't seen my demons

Don't get me wrong, I learned how to live around them

They are so talented, so precise, replicas of the Evil

Their job was done many tides ago but they still linger, trapped in shame

I tried to get rid of them, I only made them stronger

I tried to see them, they hid in the darkness of my fears

I tried to kill them, um.. that didn't end well

So, I tried to love them; but trying was not good enough

I tried harder

And harder

And harder

It was impossible to love the ones who hurt me

The ones that sabotaged every single effort of mine to smile

I gave up and distracted myself smelling poppies

The field of battle become an epic endless bloodbath

My feet got red, slippery and slimy  

I climbed over dead bodies to see the sun rising again

The sun was different, alive and full of promises

I fell for the spoken myth of unconditional love

I tried to gamble and win my part of it

The profits were squandered on moments of self-acceptance

And I was left only with what couldn't be taken

I reached inside and eradicated the entirety from the roots

This is my final bet, I told myself

I put everything I had and even what I could steal from others

It felt so right, a calling beyond all senses

Now it’s exhausting, it seems it was a trap

I used to run away from the prison of this feeling

Now I can see how pointless that was

I know quitting is an option no more