They ask me to keep rising.
They ask me to keep running.
They ask me to keep fighting.
Inside, I am breaking.
Inside, I am falling apart.
Inside, I have pushed myself to my limit.
Inside, I keep pushing myself past my limit.
I no longer have the strength to hold it all together anymore.
Inside, I am hoping the glue is strong enough to hold it all together.
I am not as strong as I seem.
I am not as invincible as I look.
I may look like superwoman.
Instead, I am just a warrior who refuses to give up.
Instead, I am a warrior who refuses to quit.
I am a warrior who doesn't know how to quit.
I am a warrior who only knows how to put one foot in front of the other.
I am hoping that with each step, it won't be the one to shatter me.
I am a warrior who wears a mask.
I am a warrior who puts on a facade in fear of letting people see the real me.
The real me is weak pretending to be strong.
The real me is broken, who pretends to be a warrior.
Every time I smile, I give the illusion I am ok.
Sometimes, it just easier to smile than to tell everyone what is wrong.
Sometimes, my smile is just the glue holding all my shattered pieces.
Sometimes, I break when I receive a gentle touch from someone who cares.
I am not who I pretend to be.
I am a broken warrior.