To the Boy who Lives

To the Boy who Lives

To the boy

who fell asleep

on my bedroom floor

in too much pain

to lie next

to the one you adore.

To the blood

that you shed

for a sense of relief,

how your skin

bears the scars

of your numbness beneath.

To the tears

that we’ve shared

when you’ve scraped through the fight

-ing your thoughts

that say peace

is the end of your life.

To the courage

with which you face

the depths of your mind;

victory is in the living,

and my love,

you’re alive.

Till Dawn

Till Dawn

I think I have been confusing

being hopeless

with being powerless;

we are not weak.

For even in the darkest

most painful moments of life,

every action done

despite the probabilities of success or failure

is a defiant act in the face of

the tallest walls,

the smallest cages,

the pitch black depths of suffering,

to the places our minds take us

showing us what they are capable of

as a pit stop

but never a place to stay.

In this, Hope,

I brace till dawn.