The world is cold.

Made up of blocks of ice.

You become frozen in place, unable to change.

Nothing feels right.

There isn't any light.

It's cold and dark.

No one knows where you are.

No one hears your cries at night.

No one would know if you disappeared,

Because no one else is,

here.

The world is empty,

except for you.

And you are trapped in your own

fear.

The world keeps getting colder,

as you get older.

The walls close in around you,

and you wish

everything would

end.

This life isn't worth all the darkness you

harbor.

When suddenly someone,

looks a little harder.

They look past the facade.

The perfect mask on your face.

The one that smiles and laughs all day.

They see all of the

pain,

and the hurt,

all of the fear,

and loneliness,

the disappointment in the society which,

ignores you

because you look okay.

Slowly but surely there

grows a small light.

The first light that has

ever touched the darkness.

It didn't burn or hurt.

The ice and cold are still around,

but the ice is

melting.

It isn't completely gone,

the internal battle against it,

continues on.

But now  you have something

to fight for.

Because now you know there's something more.

Because you weren't alone in that ice like you

thought.

Now you're giving it all you

got.

Because this isn't a fight to be fought,

it's a war,

to be won.