Troubled Soul
I used to be so happy,
Charismatic and full of joy.
But when age 11 came and passed,
It left behind a troubled boy.
A skeleton in my closet,
That just won't let me be.
I was so young and innocent,
Until a grown man stole that from me.
I hoped one day it would go away,
And I'd be at peace inside my skin.
But that faith would be short lived,
A week later when it happened again.
I try to put my past behind me,
And leave many words unspoken.
However the scars on my wrists and arms,
Remind me that I'm still broken.
The nightmares make me restless.
Pain and sorrow make me weak.
Flashbacks haunt my mind and soul,
And make it impossible to sleep.
I open my mouth and try to scream,
But no ones around to help.
It always seems when I need someone,
I'm left all by myself.
I try to pretend it never happened,
And fight through another day.
Its taken me fourteen years to see,
I'm never going to be okay.
So go ahead and laugh at me.
Call me a loser, weird, and crazy.
I'm not the happy boy I used to be,
I'm a troubled soul this world has made me.
I never asked to be this way.
I didn't want to cut my skin.
The feeling of a razor sliding down my arm,
Brought on a much needed peace within.
The demons that keep taunting me,
Show me undisputed proof.
No matter what I do in this life,
I'm never going to be like you.
I'll never be okay or normal,
When looked at through your eyes.
But what's normal for the spider,
Is chaos for the fly.
Copyright © Randall Combs | Year Posted 2015
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