I walk along the lines of childhood and pain,
I blur the line of real and fake,
Those who see may think me insane.

I push the line of somewhere and lost,
I hide in the wrinkles of my brain,
Deny, and lie, to myself, at all the cost.

I fear fear itself, as it grabs my throat,
And holds me close in its grasp,
Reading off all the things I wrote.

Soon, though, fear takes another shape,
Now it's my father's hand that grips,
Beating me down, and forcing his mental rape,

These thoughts are scars and they rot,
I stay inside my mind, speechless,
Silent to a world who's attempts at prying are all for not.

I see what I see, and hear what I hear,
These memories become monsters,
They haunt me with each look and leer.

Wrapped up in my own arms,
I now sit in the quiet room,
They say it's meant to keep me away from harm.

Pills and needles do nothing for me,
Or have I just gone numb?
Am I just another horrid junkie?

My mind drifts, then I'm the wight,
Testing all that makes me tick,
I'm a numb and dumb sickly sight.

My rabbit runs and spins the wheels again,
I can't stop my racing thoughts,
Doctor, please, put me to an end.