how many times have you said just one more day?
how often have you held on, with blood in your mouth, teeth clenched, eyes hollow—
just to survive?

you’ve crawled through the worst parts of life.
you’ve tasted loneliness so sharp it burned holes in your chest.
you’ve worn disappointment like a second skin.
you’ve endured.

and now?
now that you’ve made it this far—
you’re thinking of giving up before it meant anything?

you didn’t survive all that to disappear quietly.
you didn’t walk through fire just to lie down in ash.
your suffering isn’t your legacy—
what you do with it is.

so no,
you don’t get to die for nothing.
not after everything.
not after carrying the weight when no one helped you lift it.

if you’re still here,
you owe it to the kid that begged the world to get better.
the one who cried without answers.
the one who needed saving but had nobody.

you have to be the man you needed.
not for closure.
not for healing.
but because no one else ever showed up.
that kid is still inside you. and he always will be.

do it for him.
be the person you needed most.
because no one else will.
because you have to.
because turning your back now would be the final betrayal.

you’re still alive.
make it mean something.