The battlefield

I been fighting.

Fighting for a very long time.

To the point of exhaustion.

Fighting lies.

Lies that are perceived as truth.

Fighting for my identity.

Fighting against my identity.

Fighting for love.

Fighting against love.

Fighting for joy.

Fighting against joy.

Fighting for hope.

Fighting against hope.

Fighting for peace.

Fighting against peace.

Fighting nonetheless.

This civil war.

Where I have been drowning.

Drowning in my own blood, sweat and tears.

Suffocating in the chaos of it all.

All while a world is going on.

Outside my mind.

But I am here.

On this battlefield.

Fighting against myself.

This place has been my home.

Home since I was a child.

I entered this place to escape.

Escape from the abuse.

Now I am girl child.

Living in a grown woman’s body.

Still fighting.

Still bleeding.

Still hurting.

Wanting to be so deeply loved.

But too blind to see it.

And embrace it.

So I am here.

A casualty of my own war.



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