The body is deceiving.

Pain is like choking on air while trying to keep your head above the water.                                            
Treading water to stay afloat, but you always feel it regardless. 
You can not see it but you know it’s there. 

Reaching to pull out invisible knives from your gut and back that do not exist. Grasping in the night at nothing and dreaming of horrible, evil things.

‘Change your perspective,’ they say. 

Well, this is the one I was born to, my own perspective.
I can see someone else’s, of course, I usually go out of my way to do that.                                                              
  But I can’t change mine with just the snap of a finger.
No matter how hard I desperately try.                           
And I do try.

I feel what I feel, and forcing myself to feel the opposite seems almost impossible.                                   
Like a lie at times.                                                               
Dismissive even.
Of not only my pain but my struggle as a whole.

They say what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, but part of me disagrees.
It’s true, but sometimes what doesn’t kill you just doesn’t kill you.                                                                  
So you keep going because you can’t see any other choice besides the worst one.

And death isn’t an option.

Not today, anyway.