Picking the pieces

Everyday you think things will be different, that you will try harder, that you will achieve something, that you will finally get somewhere but then you remember you have a time limit. To leave your mark, or leave quietly that is the question. When you're faced with an early death you'd think the world would be different, you would have the motivation to do anything in your time but I can't actually do anything. Nothing changes except you. No one notices except you because you don't want to burden anyone with that knowledge that you have.

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You watch everyone and see the irony of the words when people say, 'I'm dying,' because they don't like a class or they have a cold. You want to tell someone, speak up but at the same time, you don't want anyone to know. You want to be treated any differently, sometimes you just need a hug or a time to break down and cry. When you're the person who never cries, who never hugs, who is constantly sarcastic and strong you don't have that luxury. You are strong for the people around you because they need it.

You start to break apart piece by piece slowly losing yourself and everything you stood for but I want to pick up the pieces. I want to try and see if I can survive ductaped together, make something of myself in 11 years. I want to get into a medicine course with an OP1 so no one ever has to deal with what I do, I want to be a bodyguard so I can protect someone, I want to learn 5 different languages and be a black belt in a martial art. I want to finally accept myself and not constantly be pressured by my mentality, I want to be happy when the time comes if I don't develop a cure and keep my air of cockiness right till the end. I could never be strong for myself, but for others, I can do anything. Bring it on life, I'm going to pick up the pieces and do whatever the hell I need to do.