secrets from the lair

A broken dream and a broken life

i used to be so passionate

and strong willed

i had that fire in me,

that i would use to win

i had a dream,

that i was sure i would make reality

but you weren't there to guide me

you fed the venom to my brain every day,

that the dream i had was just a phase,

that it was useless, and nothing good would come from pursuing it

and not like i had a knack or any talent anyways

your narrow-minded thought process ceaselessly corrupted my own,

until i believed you were right

until i questioned myself,

for dreaming my dream

it used to hurt so much,

to feel so close yet so far away from your dream

but i just kept quiet

and endured the agony

while pretending i'm fine

it doesn't hurt anymore,

because i've grown to accept it

and i just feel numb

as i stare at the remnants of my broken dream

but then i found,

a different fairytale,

one where i could get lost

for nights and days

my safe haven, a blissfully beautiful corner inside of my brain

but you seem to hate my ecstasy,

i should've noticed the pattern earlier

but i never fully understood why you'd want to hurt me,

you're supposed to love me

maybe you didn't know how,

but you didn't even try

and ended up finding excuses

to take my haven away

without even letting me have a say

there went my happiness,

plunging to its supposed death again

leaving an emptiness in my chest

that i did not want to wish away

i now roam, aimless

hopping on to whatever must be best

no dream, no desire

just mindless musings

because i dared to dream again

the fire is dead now, so is the dream

and i don't know and i don't care

about whatever it is that i do best anymore

unrealizing, you just kill me more and more each day

i guess it is true

that parents kill more dreams than anyone else