most of the time, he doesn’t get himself

a kid who once thrived in emotional wealth

but that kids now hurt, he longs to know

what turned his once warm heart so goddamn cold

he barely trusts himself, so he can’t trust others

but yet new people hurt him, one after another

he can’t live for himself, an arrow through the arm,

different battle every day, tattoo’d on are scars

he struggles to maintain the exhausting facade,

not his mind nor his soul, it’s his heart that’s been clawed

his own worst enemy, he’s tied down in chains

deals himself the most damage, abel to his own cain

he finds own case to be such an obscure sorrow

searches for strength everyday to push on for tomorrow

from a birds eye view, he sees his mind behind bars

and with the truth unraveled, he sees he brands his own scars