It's only me .

I don't know who I am.
My soul is bruised and beaten.
Almost as if it's been eaten.
My thoughts are spooky and dark.
I see my self as a lost shark.
I don't mean to hurt.
but in front me there's an invisible shirt.
On the outside I may seem fine.
On the ind side I'm actually kind.
But you'll never see that it's me.
Because everything true has turned into lies.
Writing sad poems, seems like the right for me.
Suddenly i feel a bit more free.
I want to be me, and not those other.
Everything I do seem to bother.
In the past, in my parents heart I was always last.
All i did was wait, slowly it turned into hate.
I feel chucked and locked in a box full of sorrow.
In the box I see nothing but horror.