Silent Warrior

There’s no expiration date on words

Or the volumes they speak when written

Passionately and proactively

Used as spears against the calvary

Swords against the horsemen

And flaming arrows into the windows of hate

I used to be bullied

I used to be beaten

But you don’t see me talk about it

For what’s to be gained from bleeding

All over again

And dabbing your finger in the crimson pool

To write save me on kitchen mirrors

For what’s to be gained in reminiscing

The near moments you were sure was death

Rather than expound upon it

I use it as a tool, a guideline for what I say

Ever present reminder of where I could still be

And where I am now

There used to be times when I wouldn’t speak

My skin grew dark

And my hands riddled with veins

For returning to the drywall

What I could never utter

I am a warrior, but one reserved

For every fighter knows there are battles

That must be set aside

And there are others

That are worthy of taking life

Or having it taken