The strongest weakness I know,
is my ability to turn the burning pain inside of me
into wild wounds and seeping scars upon my skin.
When day turns into night,
I am quickly learning that my pen shuts off in the middle of a verse,
and I pick up the sharpest blade instead -
it releases the pain with a speed with which my ink could never compete.
I am not pretending that the monsters lost any more,
I am crying because the minute they invaded my body, mind and soul -
they had already won... it all.
They not only left me with scars and black memories,
they left me with taunting voices I do not recognise,
and visions I can never explain.
I thought that I could find myself through healing,
through letting go of my strongest weakness,
but I guess I like the way it hurts -
a pain that has been caused within my control.
