A cold abrasion
Numbing as quickly
As the words outpouring
Making raw a mind
Knowing no different
Than to accept
And try to live with
The disappointment
Of oneself.

Havoc raining as a wave
Twice as tall
Allowing no escape
But to watch
As the trauma unfolds
And the words
Spoken out of hate
Branded on my brain
As a reminder
Of being unworthy.

A blank canvas
Unknowing
To the wide staring eyes
Bruised beneath
The blank canvas veil
That is the shell
Of skin,
More alien on this body
The more photo albums
A mind fills with memories.

Could I really be
The monster
Of which
She speaks?

Deleting
Is the only option
To escape the toil
Of counting fingers
And reading
Truths and falsehoods
To conclude
Innocence or guilt
In my adolescence.

Silence is a grave
That one finds comfort in
When these walls
Are so used to ringing ears
From the storm
That only lasts seconds
But lingers
In the gilded silence
As the mind speaks
Above the bloodflow
When all one can do
Is plug ears
With fingertips
In order to live with oneself

Retaliation lies beneath
The bleeding
Now only visible
If friends are let close
To see
As the heart
Tears threads
That have been sewn
To restrict emotion
Loosening the seal
On the demon cradled within

A furnace
Are thrown the old photo albums
But in turn are the recents
As a block in the mind
Has been created
To forget
Because nothing is worth remembering
During a childhood
Of only knowing
The names
And the fear
Of what you are,
And after such a block has been made
Remembrance
Is no longer
A thread
Sewn in
To allow an escape.