I thought the answer was the fight.
pushing anyone who got in my way out of the way, kicking through doors, fighting & working & fighting as damn hard as I could to make something give
beating against the wall, fists pounding on wood, trying to find that one weak spot
“let go of it all” I told myself “become a machine. that is what they want you to be. that is how you win”
become ruthless. become inhuman. be a machine. be a machine. be invincible. coat yourself in iron armor. build a suit where nothing will ever hurt or touch or lovingly caress your skin. become unfeeling. be a machine. become what you do & not who you are. you must protect yourself. you must not let anyone get too close. you must not let anyone know the person you really are. you must protect yourself. stop feeling. fight. fight. fight. fight. fight, even if it makes you bitter, even if it makes you cynical. cut yourself off from feeling this way. cut yourself off.
yet there is a price to pay / you win the game, in some aspects, but you are left behind, the underdog, unfulfilled, unhappy, unseen, unknown, lost / lost / you will all the wars but lose all your soul / you become what they want you to be, but not what they need you to be / not what you need to be
because all along, the answer wasn’t less heart, but more / all along, the advice you needed wasn’t less soul, but more
& the fight doesn’t have to make you bitter
it doesn’t have to make you cynical
it doesn’t have to make you heartless
maybe you just need more heart, more soul / maybe you can only be strong if you know how to be vulnerable