As I look up at your eyes
I see nothing but a deep, red mist.
I used to cry in pain every night
thinking of the places your hand violently struck.
Now I've grown up
and you've learned to keep your distance.
But you found another way to abuse me
I wish I could still be punished
just like the hits i endured in the past,
because your words now destroy me.
they puncture deeply right through my heart.

You know the saying,
"Sticks and stones may break my bones,"
but the words will always haunt me.
You spit them out effortlessly
not bothering to think who you may hurt.
not bothering to think about
what internal damage may emerge
from deep within my soul.

I'm scared to look anyone in the eye
because they might see through me.
I'm afraid to express myself in front of them,
because of what they might think of me.
I fear their judgement, i tremble as i crouch
in a dark, hollow corner with nothing
but the monsters behind my walls.
I see now that you made me the person
i have always feared.
The person I never thought that I'd become.
I became a bloodsucking monster,
a creation you succeeded in designing.
No more confidence, no more dignity.
It was all ****** out,
the moment you infected your poison inside my brain.

Someday when I'm old and gray,
I will think of you and sigh.
I'd remember the father you once were,
and ask myself what I must have done
to suffer through your torturing intimidation.
I'll remember you for the person you always were,
and not the one I've dreamed of having.
Because those cuts and heals will someday fade
it's the words i'll always remember.

"You're hurting yourself by stressing out too much!"
You think you know what you may be saying,
But you are completely and unutterably wrong.      
You took a class or two of psychology and believe that you are an expert on MY stress.
That is where you're wrong again.
My dear, I was born a stressful child,  I inherited my parents genes who did nothing but stress their entire lives. And as I grew up, they stressed me even more, hoping to someday build the "perfect" obedient child. So what do you want me to do? To erase every bit of worry that I have ever come upon. I'm sorry but I cannot. Maybe it"s because I care so much about the things and people that will never matter. Maybe I shouldn't talk about my problems, it seems better for both me, for you, and for everyone else who listens. Or maybe I should begin bottling it deep inside me again, I was doing pretty well with that procedure. Why should I tell you all my worries and everything that goes on in my life? I thought I ibhad a good reason, but I guess that doesn't really matter anymore. I hurt you with my worries, and I hurt you with my pain. If I shut it off, then you will be better off as well. Yes my love, I am stubborn and no it is not your fault. I don't need to "vent" about anything am I right? After all, I am made of titanium.

Will there be a day
In which one wakes up in the morning
Without any shrieks within the house?