No one knows and I dare not tell.
The secrets inside cause pain to swell.
Hitting in the hours just before dawn,
they come back to haunt and do more harm
I know not how to run from the past;
nothing I do to avoid it lasts.
Facing it, conquering?. Tried it, sorry.
Inner demons have more power than a souped-up Ferrarri.
"I am my own worst enemy,"
said I many times and still I believe.
Some of us strive just to get through each day.
We hide behind the front and pray;
the front we use to pretend we're ok.
Counselors? Yeah...right, whatever.
Been there, done that, still haven't severed
the pull the secrets have over me.
They're more than words can hope to relieve.
I struggle on, knowing somehow
my memories make me stronger, but how?
In those wee hours I feel so weak,
so vulnerable when they're at their peak.
Yet giving up was never an option.
I must use them to go forward.
Perseverance is adopted.
I make it my friend.
It's the only way.
My other friend I call faith.
My battles are fought for a reason each day.
To help others? Perhaps, and that's ok.
Not one to be selfish, I share my strength.
To reach out to others, we must stretch the length.
The length of our boundaries, even sometimes
when we know those boundaries are the weaknesses inside.
My strength is my weakness? Confusing, I know.
But think about it more and maybe you will also.