I fought for attention; then in 1st grade

I fought for my curiosity; then in 2nd grade

I fought for answers; then in 3rd grade

I fought for stability; then in 4th grade

I fought against my demons; then in 5/6th grade

I fought for my happiness; then in 7/8th grade

I fought for my friendships; then in 9th grade

I fought to find myself; then in 10th

I fought for my passions; then in 11th grade

I fought for my sanity; then in 12th grade

I fought for my life; then in the 1st year of college

I fought for stability again; then

I fought to prove myself to you; then

I fought for love and failed; then

I fought for my education and failed; then

I fought for my job and failed; now

I fight for my freedom.

I fought so much, and you were not aware.

I cried. I felt shame.

I broke down the wall, and welcomed my anger.

I cried. I felt guilt.

I hate you.

I hate that you made me fight so much.

I hate that I seemed so strong that my feelings were allowed to be dismissed, by you, but mostly by me.