My Own Terms

I won't be her.

I know what they see and it's not me.

I won't be the wasted potential

you warn of behind veiled words.

You can keep the pity

Hidden beneath your smile,

because I'm fine.

Control is what I've fought for all my life;

took me 20 years and finally it's mine.

The decisions I make today are mine alone to claim,

and the consequences mine too, and I'll keep them.

Maybe tomorrow I'll throw it all away

for a chance to feel alive,

but all I'm promised is this moment

and I won't waste it just passing the time.

What I should have learned by now:

there's no magic elixir for what's broken in me.

There's no cure for this disease

but I refuse to not believe

that healing's in my future

and nobody can do that but me.

I'll make my own magic potion

start with what I have and can hold

enough strength to survive yesterday

and steel myself for tomorrow

and the hope that could lead an army

into near certain death

and have them singing as they go,

because nothing's certain and giving up

means more than just letting go.

Add a dash of faith to remind us it's all worth it

because what we're fighting for is real

and it's worth more than life.