I was down when writing this piece and started thinking about my life. I realised that I don't...
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I relate to nothing more other than the screeching cry of a boy who is being hammered into a man, by his own father. It reminds me of who I am and the reality of my life: it’s promises, gifts of hate and the kind of challenges I have to face daily.
Euphoria is an alienated word because I have yet to experience it. My sanctuary is often in a dark room where a lot of my thoughts and prayers are collected. It is a place marked by bloodstains and the moist sensation on the floor reminds you of every useless tear that has ever fallen. This is a place where, even though it’s filled with a lot of violence, I can be myself and escape everyone who wants to hurt me. Their words of abuse echo in my head and, unlike standard echoes, they never fade. They linger on like an incomplete ballad, which is yet to be given a purpose. Their words are purposeful though. Each one reminds me of everything I am incapable of accomplishing. I blame myself daily for every single thing I cannot complete, but the unheard truth is that he kept me back. The man who was supposed to be protect me is the one who deserted me and scarred me with nothing but his weapons of destruction (his hands) for eternity! This... is the life of Keelyn.