Quiver

Will I let this happen to me?

The girl stands in the mirror with rivers flowing down her cheeks

Here exposed, she is no warrior.

She is no happy extrovert that she takes on in public.

Her strength has kept her alive, but not thriving.

"Will I let this happen to me?" The girl asks herself. She could do it and she could be gone, she could disappear and after a week at most nobody would notice an empty seat where she once sat. She could give up her chances of a happy life, she could give up her pets, and her friends and her life. She could do it. 

She wouldn't give up that easily.

Now she tells three people of choice about her pain

Of course they'll never look at her the same.

She stands in the mirror, after a traumatizing dream. The kind that makes her panic and scream. She could do it, she knew it, and the nightmares would be over. Dead eyes only see dark, but it would be better than what her eyes were forced to linger on. Reliving the experiences that brought her to the breaking point, two years of child abuse repeating and repeating in her mind saying she was worthless and helpless. 

"Will I let this happen to me?" She asked the mirror. 

Butterflies drawn on her arm 

better than what was being drawn on before

And maybe her social life would be the same

before the therapy came

It hurt to see those who couldn't stand by her anymore

she had stood by herself for years, she would be okay.

But if she ended it, what would her social life matter? She could float in moonlight lake instead of fighting battle after battle nursing wounds but out of public eyes.

How long would it take for the warrior girl to destroy herself?

Her cries soaked up by pillows, screams muffled by blankets. In the end, this battle would be for herself. She couldn't rely on others, even the ones she trusted most to stand by her for the bloodiest war. In their defense, they didn't know how to. They didn't know what it was like to be so afraid to die but so willing to do it.

Breaking down, falling down, she was only going down and she knew that things wouldn't last on this road. 

"Will I let this happen to me?" I ask myself in the mirror. No, I won't. I'll fight it. If this road isn't right, and turn away and take another one. And maybe I don't know where it leads and maybe I don't know what I'll find along the way but I know it's the right choice. Somehow, I'll find a way. I can only hope someone will be there to see it happen.