Protect. That's my role, to protect. To fight. To be thrown into the ring when someone who can't fight for themself is being faced with a battle they can't win. In another life, maybe I could be just another person. But I was raised on another love. A different love. A violent, defensive love. In another life, if I had another chance, it'd be a good love. A strong love. But the lyrics resonate with me too damn strong. The song is too damn loud. And if somebody hurts you, I wanna fight. But my hand's been broken one too many times. So I'll use my voice, I'll be so fucking rude. Words, they always win, but I know I'll lose. I fight. I protect. I raise my voice, screaming at the top of my lungs. I won't let you hurt them. I won't let you kill them. I won't let you touch them. They won't hurt like I did. They won't know pain like I did.
I was raised on another love. A love that isn't defined by flowers and soft words. A love that isn't gentle hugs and quiet nights. I was raised on a violent love. Fight for the affection, wage war against your human traits and become nothing but theirs. A puppet, a soldier, a robot. Anything. I broke out, but you can't uproot a tree and still expect it to stand. I was raised on another love, and I will stand in front of every damn bullet whether I want to or not. I will stand in the way of every word, blade, bullet and fist. I will scream and hold my hands over my ears. I will cry and ignore the words of warning. I will stand in front of you, even if I hate everything about you.
Maybe it's because I believe nobody deserves the pain more than I do. Maybe it's because it's in my nature. Maybe it's because I have another love. A love nobody else will ever understand, even if they tried. I'm going to be strong, that's what they always wanted. That's what they always needed. So I'll be strong. I won't cry. I'm always okay. I wanna fall in love but you matter more, so you go first. And if you get hurt, don't worry about it. They'll wish they never fucked with you.
I was raised to protect. To fight. To be strong and fake. I was raised on another love.
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Poetry For The Masses
PoetryA collection of poetry and poetic stories written by myself about varying topics, from simple pleasures to fantasy worlds to real problems. Organized in the order of which they're written, these stories make up thoughts and ideas that pass through m...