Wings

Part 3: Stigma

To become myself I have to destroy the columns holding up my childhood.
They will be forgotten and heal, but continue to bleed, just like I knew they would.
I scratch this onto a surface, someplace that's illegal.
But I get caught before I finish. The look in my eyes are lethal.
Don't worry, I know what I'm getting myself into.
Being interrogated is just something I'm used to.
Those times I would run as if my life depended on it,
only to be caught and beaten by someone you'd call a parent.
I wish I had someone to call while I laid there on the floor.
But I was stuck in that place as if it was missing a door.
She being the one I had to protect when it was time for bed.
And today I still wonder "why did you do that to me then?"
Now I'm here apologizing to her for those bad days.
I tried to hide it, conceal it, but it just cannot be erased.
It's okay to cry as long as you'll dry my eyes
because I don't want to let go. I don't want to say goodbye.
There's a light that will brighten up my sins
and shine through the days where he always wins.
I can't turn back. Stigma is what I'm named.
But when I hear it, I feel like dying everyday.
Now I'm stuck in this cage. My wings are diminished.
Please let me stay here so I can be punished.
I hope you can forgive me as we live in entirely different worlds.
I need to make a phone call to know we aren't speaking different words.