Falling is one thing. Collapsing is another.
And then now, i know how it felt; having your life footsteps away and not being able to collect it. Self-inflected pain. Cutting your skin with the same razor blade, wanting so much to stop, and then, you don't. I wished I could blame it on someone else so it all wouldn't be my fault, so I wouldn't have to add layers of hatred towards myself to that already-rotten heart.
Hope rises in vapors and slowly condenses and the time you reach out to take it, it disappears. Not ever existing, it not ever existing, you not ever existing, would have been easier.
Blow after blow, and you ask yourself how much longer to bear. I was that thing boxers keep on hitting for training in order not to hurt a real someone. i was designed to take the punches and slowly swallow my tongue letting it turn into venom eating up my innards and go on hushing the screams. As life flowed, mine with tat rock in the stream nobody recognized. A Martyr I kept on whispering, a martyr was what I had always recognized myself to be. And if you were not a martyr, then i'd be nothing.