Mourning Skies

Mess

Once an open child
With eyes wide open to the world
Eager to sip in anything I could
He called my brain a sponge
And said I soaked in all around me
And it was true
And though he made the world seem
Like a place of discovery
As time ebbed on
I absorbed only the world he taught me of
Educated me on the death
Force fed me his own biased beliefs
And my patience wore thin
And the notches in my wall
Counted the days until my freedom
And the ages ranged
From eleven until today
Where the truth of his ways
Finally surfaced in truth
Like a body from the bottom of a lake
So dormant for many years
Now teeming with disease and embedded
With the marks of murder
Things that could not be erased
But the image is stilled burned in my mind
Like a hot iron
I can't leave my window shades up at night
I can't leave an open spot on my wall
I can't stay in an open room by myself
Because I have the growing fear
Of him being there
The same malicious grin
He had cut from ear to ear
As he masked his monstrosity
With a soup can label
Of father
And as I try to comprehend
The things he said
The phrases
I'm filled with doubt
Which fueled my anxiety
The storm inside of me
If I do set it free
I'll create a mess I cannot clean
But he remains blindfolded
By his own mind
The true enemy he cannot escape
Inside of his mind
He cannot find an ounce of empathy
His feet have been sewn so tightly
To his own shoes
The people around him
Do not have any
And they walk completely their own
In space he'll never understand
As we walked the tight rope
He tugged at the ends
Cutting off individual hairs
Until there was none left to balance on
And he still wonders to this day
Why we fell