Survivors
are the least important,
the
ones with the least need for help.
Lowest
priority on the list. Our journey is done.
We
won.

I don’t feel like a winner.

Why am I upset when I survived, my story’s been told,
I’m
out the other side, I’m perfectly alive?
Where
is my gratitude? There are people
worse
off than me, worse off than I
ever
was, therefore mitigating
anything
I’ve ever felt, of course.

My
emotional needs are nothing
compared
to those with stage four
who
suffer so much physically,
some
who need a miracle.
I
have so much to be
grateful
for. I’m
so
lucky.

Sharing
a picture of a candle on Facebook
does
not make me feel respected or honoured
[1 share = 1
prayer]
it
just reminds me of things I don’t need
any
help to be reminded of.
[1 share = 1
trigger]

We
don’t fight, we survive
and
it’s not our fault that
we’re
not the heroes
we’re
painted as.
We
are not soldiers.
We
are just people
trying
to get by.
There
is no more
courage
or
strength in us
than
resides in
anyone
else.

We
haven’t
‘won
the battle’
any
more than
others
failed.