a battle cry

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there are things i need to do. there are things i need to see. there are houses i need to build in the middle of the forest so the four of us can curl up on the roof at 1a.m. and take turns reading each other angsty poetry. there are things i need to do and there are things i need to see. there are books to be read and stories to be written. there are hands to hold. there are memories to unfold. there are inside jokes and stars and secrets you’ve never told. there are the moments when i feel safe in your arms more than anywhere else in the world. there is the day save myself without being told. and hope. there is the hope i can instill in others because i told the truth when maybe someone out there thought no one ever would. when someone out there honestly thought they were alone in the world. because i have a voice. because i am worthy. and in control. because i am alive. because i deserve the spot i have in this world. and i’m not saying it’s easy, but goddamnit, i’ve read too many stories to give up on my own. because maybe this is a story. and maybe i will go down in history, and if i do, i want to be remembered as the kind of person who would keep fighting. the kind of person who would love you through anything. the kind of person who’d keep trying. because there are things i need to do. and there are things i need to see. so this is me, looking the void straight in the eye and telling you i’m not afraid of your lies. i’m not afraid of the night. i’m not afraid of the times where it seems like i’ll never find the light. i’m not afraid of being alive. so fuck you, cat. this is my battle cry.


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