I won’t let myself be broken down,
shattered shards of a deconstructed self.
I won’t let myself break
under the weight
of worlds bearing down on my shoulders.
But I know one thing. I’m not like you.
You, who refuses to live in the present but picks at the scars of the past.
You, who would rather be a ghost and haunt those you lost.
Lost through resentment filled waves of bitterness, a scourge of misery and envy.
I’m not like you, this isn’t a game, but you play as if we’re puppets competing to win.
To win what?
I’ve learnt many things about myself,
how to stay true to myself,
how to ensure I don’t break under the exhaustive weight of people wishing i would fail.
Hug my family.
Tell my friends how much I adore them.
Work hard as fuck.
Because I’m not playing a game,
but I certainly don’t want to waste my life worrying and
breaking down because of the words you speak,
the vitriol you write.
–I work to be the best I can be.