A person

They say "it will get better", they say "never give up", and I never did, no matter how badly I wanted to. I kept going and going and going on, rising from the ashes of my desecrated form only to burn and rise again and again and again.

Somebody once said: "Happiness needs to be fought for." But I've had my share of fights and I am tired of these never-ending physical and mental battles. I'm tired of pain and of bruises. I am tired of being strong, of proving myself, of having to justify my right to live, to love and to dream to the people who only see me as their slave.

I am tired of pretending to be perfect so that I don't upset or disturb anyone. I am tired of constant self-restraint it takes to keep up that façade. I want to lie down and cry and to be held tight by my love. I want them to say that everything will be alright and I want to believe them.

Happiness needs to be fought for? I don't want, I can't fight anymore. I don't want to force myself to rise from the depths of hell and oblivion only to be struck back down again. I am seared with scars, Kahlil, but I am not the strongest soul, just the one that managed to survive this far.

First and foremost, I am a person, and that should be enough to deserve freedom and happiness and love and life without having to fight for it every step of the way. But if that's not enough for this world, then maybe this is not the world worth living in.