Battle

Permanent heartbreak: something in which i never thought to be possible. Disregarding my previous post, fighting seems to be engulfing me into it's flames; tearing at the core of my being, ripping me into thousands of small, useless pieces.

Fighting gives ones reasons to show their upmost passion, yes. However, fighting also tears the soul apart. Fighting can break the strongest man down, and turn him into a mere child; a simple helpless, vulnerable child, staring down upon the mess that has been thrown at his feet. No, I am not speaking of physical fighting, it's the verbal fighting that leaves the worse battle wounds. It's the verbal fighting that bring back the horrid memories in which are relinquished from the deeps of the back of one's mind, ripping open the old scars that were once sealed shut.

Words are like the venom of a snake; venom give you a burning sensation from the inside out, then slowly breaks down vital tissue, attacking like acid, until you are burned, permanently, from the inside. Word work just in that fashion. Slipping into your ear, marinating in your brain, traveling into your heart, and burning it, from the inside out.

The tone is the teeth to the words of venom, leaving that wound to be that much more painful. The teeth of tone can drag out into your flesh, leaving not a puncture wound, but a gash in the skin, allowing the venom to spread faster into the blood stream. There is, and forever will be a way to say things, and that's something that I strongly believe in.

For me, it's not what the fight is about, but more who the fight is with. Fighting with certain people leaves me at a tarnished physical state: no sleep, constant thoughts, and my ever more needed anxiety. It's the people that mean the most, that leave the worst damage.
__

I feel like I work 3 jobs. My actual job, home, and one that shall remain unnamed. The latter two are jobs that leave me with no money, but the slim satisfaction, and slight happiness (when the time is of the essence). Catching a break is something that won't come my way. It's something that I have to be willing to settle for, and willing to accept, which for the most part i have.

I have to settle for the fact that I will always be the one, more affected by certain situations. While other may sleep easy, and at peace, I lay in my bed and stare at the ceiling, counting the days that have past me by where I feel permanently heartbroken.