Bloody Knuckled Cliches

When the going gets tough

I keep getting told
“if it makes you want to quit,
hold on.

that’s what makes it worth it!”

what the hell is “worth it”?
How do you quantify “worth”?
how do you know what “it” is?

I keep telling myself,
hold on. Hold on when the going is tough
because you are a warrior.

You are a fighter.

So fucking fight. Grit your teeth
through the pain. Through the mental turmoil,
through the emotional roller coaster.

You will get there.

You have always gotten there.
But I am tired of fighting
and my knees are weary.

My mind is bloodied.

Beaten. Down. Down. Down.
I say “enough!” like I mean it,
keep repeating it.

Say it enough

and you will begin
to believe, even yourself.
Lies fade into truths blur into years.

Tediously going.

One, two, three. Never ending.
That’s the dream, right?
Chasing.

If it’s worth it.

Fuck worth it. Fuck worthy.
I want to stop now.
Can I stop now, without feeling guilty?

When do I get to stop?

When my bloodied, battered corpse
falls dead to the ground?
Can’t give up.

Can’t give up.

The internalized bleeding
can’t stop me. If it’s not broken,
you don’t need to heal.

Hold on, because if it doesn’t hurt

it’s not worth it, right? If it doesn’t hurt,
if it doesn’t make me want to quit,
then I don’t want it.

I don’t bloody want it.

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