My Dark, Twisted Side

Poem 7

When you want to cry,
But tears don't come out.
When you glide numbly
All about.
Your life, your thoughts, your brain
All cracked, probably shattered,
Never able to be washed by rain
For they are all battered...
And bruised...
And shattered...
You base your existence on what-ifs,
Somehow hurting yourself more.
As other's words flood your mind,
You wonder if there was ever a time
Where you were happy
And carefree
Without life pulling you deeper into the shadows
Of your own black life...
Where everyone yells
And demands perfection
And the yearn for acception
Eats you alive
Only leaving your broken soul behind
As a trophy
For all who are unkind
And haven't changed.