There is no escape from yourself once you turn seven shades of blue

You can scream at death and brush away the leaves but your grave will always have a body that decieves even after being filled with sawdust and glue

Bound to anger and rebellion you struggled to let anyone in
Bindings so tight, fingers turned black like that night
Screaming, crying, attempted flailing
You tried so hard to not give up the fight
You succumbed to the blight

Your mom couldn't even recognize the cold leather bound over these bones that are told to be you
Malnutrition claimed stake to the body
Amphetamines numbed the mind and caused leishons to start rotting

No escape in death
No escaping breath
Hollowed head from a chest filled with ****

Your life shrunk, grew diseased and immature
Beaten senseless and tied to the headboard
Did you suffer? No one can say for sure

Buried with little more than the foegiviness of a closed casket and the permanantness of an abused life
The only memento you'll carry on is the form fitted ligature marks and consciousness derived of strife