To Me

A decade old, when innocence should bloom, My world became a cold and sterile room. A mother's love, a fragile, broken thing, Allowed the whip, the cruel and constant sting. Small, childish lies, a desperate, whispered plea, Met with a plank, relentlessly. Her hand, the weapon, sharp and cutting deep, While childhood's safety fell to sleep.

The lines blurred then, a suffocating haze, Reality lost in trauma's endless maze. ADHD, a mind in frantic flight, Anxiety, a suffocating night. Weed, a fleeting ghost, a whispered grace, To find a phantom smile upon my face. To dim the horror, make the pain abate, A fragile shield against a crushing fate.

Then terror tore the thin façade away, A jaw in hand, a brutal, blinding day. Punched in the face, against a cold, hard wall, No escape, no solace, just the fall. The kitchen floor, a sandwich choked down fast, As rage consumed, a shadow from the past. A hand at throat, a desperate, gasping plea, For freedom's breath, to simply just break free.

Barefoot, bleeding, on the biting stone, A frantic flight, utterly alone. A brick in hand, a silent, desperate cry, To smash the pain, to simply just die. The roaring truck, a villain drawing near, A raised brick poised, fueled by primal fear. Then panicked flight, a breathless, desperate run, From brutal darkness, under a dying sun.

The sterile room, a cold and watchful gaze, A diagnosis born of hazy days. My mother's lie, a cold and calculated sting, To drag me back, to what her hell could bring. Three dollars gone, the final, bitter blow, Abandoned, cast out, nowhere left to go. My belongings burned, a cruel, symbolic fire, Stripped bare, consumed by their destructive ire. 

Now cannabis is gone, a hollow space, And chaos floods this broken, empty place. Sleep turns to torment, hours stretched and long, And dreams too real, where I no longer belong. The memories twist, a cruel and mocking game, Lost in the shadows, whispering my name. Joints scream, stomach churns, a physical despair, Every inch of me consumed by pain and care.

"I'm broken," echoes, a whispered, silent plea, A life unlived, a twisted destiny. No childhood laughter, just a haunted gaze, Lost in the labyrinth of trauma's maze. This shattered being, forged in endless strife, A constant battle, just to cling to life. But even now, in this abyss of night, A flicker yearns, for just a sliver of light.