Enter the cracked in half mind of a psychopath.
The aftermath of being at war with lifes’ wrath.
It’s sad to have been a kid gone mad,
That had no choice or chance but gave it all I had.
Raised in a emotionally metaphoric bloodbath.
In a corner on my ass, arms wrapped around my calfs,
Head in my knees, my sobs eventually turned into laughs,
At the fact that it won’t last.
There’ll come a time when my life will pass.
Startled by a crash in the other room, I run in, I gasp.
Next thing I know, my bloods on the floor,
And my toys were in the trash.
My grandmother said the pain would go away, and it did.
What she failed to mention is,
There’d be more to come for as long as I lived.
Depressed, deranged beliefs, beneath my skin, it hurts when I breathe.
I confess, I’ve cut to divert my attention. You see,
To bleed again seems worth it to me.
I’m surprised my eyes still have tears,
I’ve cried through my demise and all the suicidal ideas.
My mental scars from an unbearable life and uncontrollable addiction,
Are shown by self harm across my arm from an innocent razors infliction.
A dark cloud looms inside my mind, this self made tomb of some kind.
A prisoner doomed to be confined,
In my head, with only painful thoughts to consume till the end of time.
And I won’t cry, just push it down inside, where it belongs.
It doesn’t help when my eyes only visualize, in my life, what’s wrong.
As time passed I grasped the cold facts,
Of my life, all my dreams will collapse.
With a moral fiber no longer intact,
I left home and I never looked back.