he smiles, but only to hide the pain
he laughs, only to get sad again.
the only thing that lasts
is the hate
the blinding hate
eating at his mind
voices get loud
impossible to keep out
he tries his best
to find happiness
but is that really possible?
when he doesn't know
the taste of happiness
he cries every night,
aching for that love and affection
but nobody hears his desperate cries
his desolate cries for help
the warm buzzing of hot blood rushes through his veins
hitting the surface of his skin
he feels alive,
the pain livening his senses
heightening the pain
diminishing the pleasure
