Someone always reminded me of the things normal people don't want to understand.

How the hero of the story is usually fake when they tell it like their unscathed.

You can't always run fast, when there's a gun at your back.
You can't run straight when you're skin is broken.
You can't run well, when your trying to figure out where to go that's safe...
you've never been there before.
You're shoes might be sandles and your feet could be bare.
The floor could be slippery or uneven or suddenly not really there.

You can throw a punch but really, how many times can you bear.
When your knuckles crunch and shift and bleed.
Would you truly try again.
How can someone so small really win the fight,
when the other is a wall.
How do you aim your next hit when you could be in the dark.
How do you dodge when you didn't even know that they were there.

How do you not stumble like a toddler,
when the air is thick
and
your mind is on pause.
Trying to make sense of the surroundings.
Work on figuring out your feet or work on where to turn next?

You're never not going to get hurt.
You're never going to just heal the next day.
You're going to bang the last place you got bruised
and
it's easy to scrape
the most frequent cut.
You're going to bleed again the next day because the next day is usually never really safe.

They say it's sporadic, the storyline, the chapters, it's messy and it's choppy.
But what else would you expect.
Somethings in life are downright backwards
and what's smooth can become rust.
Just because you can't focus on the words maybe means it's not
meant for you to read.

The world is not kind, when you
end up loitering after dusk.
Just because there are...