I try to uncover what’s underneath;
I try to uncover what’s hiding beneath these sheets.
They decorate my soul, create this person who I am,
but they’re beginning to tear, tear right at the hem.
I’m not sure why I am this way,
though I constantly search each & every day.
I try to find the answers as to what I do and what I say,
though none come up each & every day.
I trace it to my childhood; the tangled roots start there;
of love & misfortune; the burden too often too heavy to bare.
I struggle with memory, as it tears a gaping hole,
Of smacks & bruises that coated your aching soul.
These visions –though conducive to my progression-
are often the reason for my rage & aggression.
Did you not love us? Were we not fair?
Did we not have perfect teeth? Did we not have perfect hair?
Were we not the model children –the ones perfect for your show?
Why did you have to break us & torture us with each & every blow?
“The drugs,” the drugs; the God ****** drugs are to blame, right?
Then why –without the drugs- do you cause me such fright!?
I want to incriminate the drugs for the abuse;
I wish I could, I wish I could, but there’s no use!
How can drugs create an entirely new monster, such an evil spawn?
The devil was always inside of you, no matter how much coke you were on!
But if you’re the devil, what does that make me?
If you’re the devil, is that what I’m meant to be?
My life is dictated by what has occurred in the past;
I leave it behind, but it never truly lasts.
How do I leave behind what has made me -created me?  
How do I let it go & expect to be?
Do I create a new person –is that what’s left to do?
But how am I supposed to be me without you?