In the last hour I dealt with a lot My own definition of why I look dour Memories I hid six feet under the ground Came emerging, grasping, and clawing at me 'till I'm found
Saying what's good for me, but my thoughts aren't considered Ignored by a mother, a father, a neglected child A child that mimicked Rapunzel locked up in a tower A child that had gotten their smile devoured
Each day they get thinner, all hopes get hindered Clouded thoughts, faded scars, and their music gets louder A habit to cloak emotions, not being able to shed a tear Refraining from going to beer, avoiding others out of fear
Consolation comes through rose lenses, A gun held to their head but not packed with powder
I wrote this short poem because the deadlines in my life on top of dealing with emotional trauma and having no time for myself all at once ******.