Smile, because life didn’t end when I was 20, it went on, keeping the circle, running the times.
It didn’t end when I couldn’t get up from the cold bed of a room full of antiseptic.
It didn’t end when I couldn’t put my foot on the harsh floor.
It didn’t end when I hung the uniform I was always proud of, letting it stay there for the next few seasons.
It didn’t end when I saw the little girl once I always held stray away after putting her knife on my back.
It didn’t end when the boy I always cared for disappeared after rubbing salt on my gaping wound.
It didn’t end when the glass was broken and the children between my arms were crying.
It didn’t end when I dropped to my knees to plead, begging to stop everything or unalive me.
It didn’t end when I drove my motorcycle alone, wondering if I could take another risky chance.
It didn’t end when I stripped some monsters from their nest, poisoning them slowly.
It didn’t end when I got undressed by misery and had to cover it with a dry leaf.
It didn’t end when I found another hand to get hold of even if it was full of thorns.
It went on.
It forced me to stand up and run because something was chasing me.
It forced me to accept, to understand, and to smile even if it gets dim slowly, in every phase.
It didn’t end, it never will.
