My Voices In Threads

History is not what they Teach you in textbooks. It's your own history that Frightens you. And I was once afraid. I was afraid of an immortal soul. One that would watch me While I slept. I was afraid of being whole, Of seeing that dimming light Beyond a sickly tunnel. I wanted peace with no recluse. I wanted sanity and pride. But I had forgotten my own name. I had left it At the gates of my childhood. I had left it with my path of life. Petty tears have brought me back to it. I now see in only red.