here’s to the losers to the outcasts the odd ones out the weirdos to the dreamers the lovers here’s to the ones who are afraid but still face their fears the ones who fight back the ones who turn their anxieties into adventures here’s to the leaders the loudmouths the artists the badasses the cautious the hesitant the sensitive here’s to the abused the abandoned the bullied to the ones who have been beaten but are not broken here’s to the ones who have lost and lost and lost but still continue to move forward
here’s to the losers may we find it in ourselves to be as brave and strong as they are
it’s a mystery to me how a lot of people are so scared of losing control. all i’m scared of is having to be in control all the time, of never being able to give power out of my hands. of finding my fists forever clenched and my knuckles whitened, my fingers forever grabbing and reaching for every last scrap of self-restraint they can close around. muscles sore, the insides of my cheeks bitten, feet tapping to a rhythm only i can hear. forever wishing i could simply lose myself. to get so entirely lost that i can’t recall what it is like to keep a hold on myself, my feelings, the words i don’t have to reconsider before they slip past my lips. to get lost beneath the glow of neon lights, the beat dropping as the colours change from red to blue to green and i feel dizzy and can’t keep the waves of roaring laughter in. to get lost and say what’s been on my mind, say it for everyone to hear, scream it from the rooftops, paint it all over the walls. to get lost and don’t think of what will happen, of what other people will think if i did the unspeakable. to get lost and not care. to lose control. to feel it slip through my fingers and enjoy the weightlessness that comes with being free, to shove it away from me as far as i can. a lot of people might say it’s a good thing - not slipping up. taking care of yourself. they might say getting lost is not worth it because in the end you’ll have to consider the consequences. what about me, you ask me? well, i wouldn’t know. i am in control.
silence isn’t a virtue but sometimes it is when you yell at your daughter about how much you wish she wasn’t born knowing that those words are going to give her issues enough for a lifetime and some more
silence isn’t a virtue but sometimes it is when you praise your son even when he is full of failure in front of your daughter with medals around her neck and trophies by her bedside dying to hear how proud you are of her
“another horoscope tells me that the war is over, that it is okay to breathe a little heavier, deeper because there isn’t an enemy around to hide from who is looking for my breath in the cold air or listening to the near panting, the sound of my heart crawling up my throat to escape the war zone
supposedly, I’ve won and no one cares how or why or when only that I am home. does it matter that home no longer feels safe? there are monsters around every corner, trust me, I know. I’ve seen them lurking behind the shadows of my mind.
is it still a victory if I can’t sleep through the night? because it feels like losing a battle over and over, every time my eyes flash open and go to the door, to the window looking for things that don’t exist
define winning for me. define home. define victory and what it means to have earned it because I still don’t know and everyday I wake up to put on another armor, pick up another sword- how do you stop fighting when fighting is all you have ever known?”