Be careful the answers you seek.
The truth most can’t seem to bare.
Thinking about a child dying inside.
Never having a chance and scared.
The toughest battles you can’t see.
Depression and despair dangerous.
Outlandish to some seeming weak.
Hence the walls we build; precarious.
As a child who has fought this battle.
Happiness is not what I seek to find.
I don’t know of that feeling; foreign.
I live everyday battling my own mind.
Sometimes the wolf grazes my skin.
Leaving self harm in its bloody wake.
It stalks me like a merry little lamb.
Trying to catch me and seal my fate.
No, you can’t physically see my war.
The abuse I faced bitter and vile.
If I die it’ll be because my mind won
and all my effort and victories futile.
