I’m lost and can’t be found again.  

Time can only tell when the deep fog of enlightenment can open the door to my choices.  

Detective come here quick with a magnifying glass and
Examine my visage.  

Take a transparent clue and accept the fact  open sources rein the opinions of the world rattling with laughter,   and shake the hinges of my door for what seems an eternal rest I long for...  

The walls become transparent and clear I’ll disseminate loud sounds crashes to cloud my false world.  

Nobodies home can you feel the world spinning round yet?

I emulate that of a weakness
Bold by its filter of present occurrences.
That weakness sings and caresses my every whim of whisper that asks what's going on.
There's flow in the bloodstream that keeps impurities of contaminating the heart.
No pamphlet of ritualistic inclinations
Exoskeleton says it's ok on the outside in.
Feel the varied emotion from outside in.
This is the cause: (      ) that is my effect
Crash on the inside, Exoskeleton, tell me it's ok

I had nothing but words to confront the confusion, my lack of parental guidance, my utter lack of safety. I only had words that I could steal from whatever books I found, to try and make sense of anything. I was living on my own at 16.

It's scary, because reading these, it really feels like that boy was really working to be a writer. Tirelessly.