Wounded Warrior

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I’m not afraid of the pain because I know that that comes with life, but I’m afraid that you’ll be the one to cause it. I’m no stranger to pain, there was a point where it took up residence with me. I saw it everyday, relived in black, white and color. It looked me in my eyes and broke some of the most devastating news to my face and I embraced it, because what is life without pain, right? Pain laid with me while I was hurting and forced itself on me when I didn’t want it. Pain didn’t come home at times without a text or a call. Pain left me sitting in places alone with the hope of it’s arrival. Pain degraded me and pushed me down in the streets as cars drove by and witnessed my shame. Pain has been toxic an hurtful and relentless but somehow it knows I can always take more. I do not break, and maybe the scariest part about a woman who does not break is what it looks like when she faces adversity. She is fearless and unremitting, and in the face of oppression she will fight tooth and nail because she knows what it feels like to be a victim of pain. She can’t be a victim anymore. She’s grown too strong to be, too much of a beast to let fear even come eye to eye with her, I dare you. Dare you to try to make her feel weak like she once was, because that person has become foreign to her.  If you put her in a ring she’ll fight but if you have any sense at all you’ll be well aware of what shes fighting for, and there will be no greater opponent.

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