Mourning Skies

Raised

You can trace back the line
Of insecurities and worries and illness
Self destruction and depression
Anxiety and abuse
From my personal experience
With people of my kind
And of myself
We can blame school or kids or stress
But deeply rooted in the depths of our minds
Are the seeds we sprouted thought from
And the water provided for our all
Was none other than our homes
They say that no one is born evil
Or that hate is taught
While this statement is true
What leads people to believe this is false
Is the fact that our beginning
Is so deeply embedded inside of us
Like a two ton anchor or iron brand
In the back of our still developing skulls
No matter how much we use
To burry the anchor
Or how much we try to cover up
The scar remains
We are still the scared children
Digging nails into wooden closet doors
Marking the days we had to wait
But in those times we were also taught
That life was not for cherishing
And at five years old the days were long
Because one year was a fifth of our lives
In our teen years things
Seemed to change at such a rate
Some tried to stop it all

And though the thought
Is constant in my mind
That maybe a bullet instead of fluids
Inside of my brain could kill the spinning
Maybe some pills or a blade
To numb myself or at least distract me
Could detach me from reality
Maybe the people we call moronic
For abusing substances
Simply never found a healthier escape
And instead of working with pain
They were only taught to mask it
We can only learn from others downfall
To build ourselves out of the mold
We were given in the first eighteen years
Yes the pain will remain as a painful brand
We never wanted or asked for
We didn't even deserve
But we can turn the pain into something new
There is always a reason
For the pain we are given and we live with
With these teachings we can educate others
How to not erase the pain
But turn it into something else