They don't tell you how to cope with things.
No one does.
They warn about it.
They say that things like this happen.
They say you should tell someone.
No one does.
You can't tell someone.
You can't tell anyone.
You sit with this in your mind.
Forever.
You sit and fear everything.
You sit hoping to not be touched in that spot.
Because oh my god, that spot.
That spot it enough to cause more silence.
That spot makes you cringe.
It makes you close your eyes.
And that spot brings back all the memories.
The memories you couldn't speak about.
The memories you weren't taught to cope with.
You can't cope with anything.

You shouldn't be so young,
and so close to death.
You shouldn't be so young,
and dealing with these problems.
You shouldn't be so young,
and battle scars from the war inside your head.