This is for me,
For when anger flares its searing fires
and turns red my vision, fists clenched.
For when the cold blue ache of pain
seeps like trickling rain down my brow
as I stand out beneath the downpour.
For when I feel,
but I don’t want to.
When I let myself empty
so that there’s nothing left to hurt.

Funny that such a common phrase
could be so fitting:
for there is no use in crying
over spilt milk.

For every day is ours,
and the strength we need to live through it.
For every trial is a challenge
and for every moment we endure, a triumph.

This is for me,
for when times are tough
and when I need to know
that I am, too.