Although hate may surround my heart,
it can not fully penetrate the center.
Still red like the blood that seeps from thorns wrapped around.
My heart is entangled by grief.
I wish it could be otherwise, but I can not knock down the walls.
The walls I put up to keep myself safe,
my mind constantly in survival mode.
I put these walls up for a reason, to fight off the ones who try to hurt me.
But in doing so, I didn't let the ones that were trying to help in.
Brambles and thickets that grew over time,
from the lack of love that I deserved.
And although the hate enshrouds my quivering heart, I wish a hand would come to pick apart the mess.
I wish I could let my guard down.
But, like an animal that has been hurt by every owner; it is increasingly difficult to trust with each betrayal.
Those who were supposed to show me the most love, confused me with their hateful words and actions.
I do not wish to become those who created me,
but it seems like it is a curse bestowed upon me from birth, to become my makers.
And although many things they do inspire me, I do not want to be them.
I can not stop myself from being a part of them, but I can try to choose my own path.
My home was no home.
I still am not home.
Oh, I wish to be home, wherever that is.
Maybe home is not a place, but a soul that perfectly intertwines with mine.
As the poison slowly darkens my core, I wish I could escape.
Not just to find a distraction, a temporary muse, but to find a love eternal.
