Alive

I remember crying after my first defeat. 20 years ago. I would cry every time I lost. It wasn’t very often, but it was brutal when it did happen. People would stare at me. I felt weak. I couldn’t control myself. But then, slowly, my eyes began to dry up. I thought that was strength.

“In your eyes, there’s a heavy blue.”

I hated that feeling so much. The repetitive convulsing of the chest as the lungs and heart suffer the cruelest, destructive pain. The slow bleeding of tears through wounded and shielded eyes. And I wondered why it hurt. I wondered how to avoid it at all costs.

“I’ve been down the darkest alleys, saw the dark side of the moon.”

When you deny your feelings and store them in the deepest trespasses of your mind, it trains your heart to produce cold blood. And that was what you once wanted and needed. Iced veins.

“I’ve been running through the jungle, I’ve been crying with the wolves to get to you.”

But now you must acknowledge your feelings. And accept yourself.

“Took too much to ease the anger.”

Let your emotions ebb and flow like the tides rising and crashing upon the shattered sands of the beach.

“You cannot know strength.. until you are broken.”