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

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