I'm sick in the head
Worthless and without value
My mom killed herself to get away from me
Father only enjoy the insults he spew
I'm sick in the head
I know know is how to self destruct
After years of constant abuse
The only picture I can construct
We find dear reader a child scared of his home
And hoarded home, with the warder, with no order
Constant I insults thrown at my face, along with kitchen plates
All I have to show from my time is a series of mental disorders.
I wasn't hit, I was laughed, used, thrown away and abused
Granted the only thing in hindsight I learned was I was a piece of shit.
If I had a time machine I would go back and finish the job
Beat my own fucking ass until I could justify this bit.
But I'm trying harder every day to get in the right direction
I'm afraid of intimacy, validation, and any self reflection.
But I've come pretty far, if I do say so myself.
Although the problem with moving forward is every day itself.
I'm keep regressing to days where I just wanna hurt that little me
Thinking of all the reasons I'm not valid, and should be erased.
I'm hoping through trial and error I'll actually be set free.
Where all this shit I wanna move past and be laid waste.
©monkeydtt
M