darkest night, take 2

sure, 

you could say it. 

and I’m sure 

that you’d think 

it was true. 

that I have lived 

through every one 

of my own 

darkest 

nights. 

and yes, 

I survived 

and survived 

and survived -

even 

when I was trying

so desperately hard 

not to. 

but who are you 

to tell me 

that this life,

this pain,

these tragedies -

will only make me 

strong? 

I’m not the heroine 

in some fantasy tale 

and everyone knows 

that I’m nothing 

like 

a song.

there isn’t an ounce 

of actual poetry 

coursing 

through my blood.

I am not beautiful 

for what I’ve endured,

only broken, 

and scarred, 

and trembling,

terrified 

of the night. 

everything haunts me,

from the first 

to the last -

and this sorrow 

is an eclipse 

casting shadows 

on everything 

in my path.

I'm not

what you write

in your books

and no

I'm nothing

like

a song.