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.