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.