Pen in my hand, I sit down to write.
Determined to not go down without a fight.
The battle hero is also my worst enemy.
These words, the weapons I use against me.
She strikes on dark midnights like this,
Suffocating my smile with a resounding hiss.
“You’re neither pretty nor smart”, says she.
“Unworthy of love and trust”, I agree.
Yes, she had caught me at my weakest,
Sitting alone with my thoughts the bleakest.
Caught me wounded by a friend’s words,
Words said or unsaid, the sharpest swords.
But even hurt, I have good swordsmanship,
So, I’ll heal and fight using my penmanship.
“If I can trust, I am worthy of trust”.
I’ll fight her with these words if I must.
“If I can love, then of love I’m deserving”,
These are words she finds terribly unnerving.
Slowly but surely, her defences start to crumble,
Her voice fades as she starts to stumble.
But she is the strongest enemy I’ve faced,
She might have weakened but seems unfazed.
She attacks again, this time with memories,
Vividly replaying all the saddest stories.
The times I’ve screamed and wept and cried,
The times I realized that love had died,
The times I wondered what I did wrong,
And thought I was the problem all along.
But the past reminds me I’ve grown.
Sad memories too, I’m proud to own.
Those tears were just the price of laughter,
Most laughs were worth it, I realized after.
And I call in the reinforcements, my friends,
Who promise to love me till this world ends.
Together we fight her till she is battered,
My smile grows, her plans are shattered.
She retreats as laughter escapes my mouth,
Muttering non-sensical words uncouth.
She might return, but for now I’ve won.
My wounds are healed, all doubts gone.