Status of a loser

Dreamt the day, no longer crippled by anxiety and self loathing. My body healed and fixed, refashioned into armor used to protect, external loathing. No longer a threat. Negativity bounces off never to leave a scratch. The last thing to worry about is, my skin with a random cut. I remember nights sleeping, jumping awake whenever I felt something on my leg creeping. Easily bruised, not enough challenges over-came, to mold the man, I inspire to become.

With each mistake I folded, anxiety took the chance, never to let it slip. Self loathing, the acceleration that brought me down. Most people don’t willingly, randomly walk on nails. When faced with the opportunity, there isn’t usually a gun to our backs. Threatening to paralyze, our last thought in time. Only promise of tomorrow, is on the other side of that spike bed, if we are lucky. At maximum ten bloody toes. Sadly whenever, I get to thinking about how much my toes hurt, naturally shift weight onto my heels. Nails stuck a little deeper than necessary, couldn’t relax and take my time.

Much pressure to hurry, in due time. Took too long to cross. Hollow bullet in my spine. Least if I, just make it to the end and fall, it won’t be on the spikes. Halfway through without a clue. How many centimeters, off my foot, left behind. Hate that I technically put myself through this, simply to survive. Best option for some, not really equipped enough to fight.

Yet still I choose not to fight anyone but myself. There is no gun. Really I do this for fun. If a push is all it takes, let me be the one to push myself to the next step. Put yourself through just to say you can do it. Eventually the day will be won.

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