The pounding in my head-
It's louder than before.
The carpet on which I bled-
Is redder than they'll ignore.
The sound of voices screaming,
The voice that trumps them all.
The reminder that I am nothing-
Is the force that makes me fall.
True pain is that which can't be spoken,
Sorrow is that which no one knows.
If I keep running I may be broken,
If I continue on the path I never chose.
If I don't quit now, I never will,
If I don't run the other way.
Cutting and crying will never fill-
The void inside that never goes away.
True pain cannot be flaunted,
Sorrow is an aura that's difficult to see.
I'm one of the haunted-
One of many who will never be free.
But what if I choose to stand stronger?
What if I choose to lift my chin?
What if I choose to push longer?
This battle is mine to win.
They don't have to have a say,
This life is mine to lose.
They don't hyave to push me away,
And I don't have to let them choose.