Damaged.

Damaged.

Sick of pretending I'm someone that I'm not, 

Tired of lying and faking while inside I rot, 

Bored of being the freak that gets hurt,

Maybe I should separate myself from the dirt. 

Stand up and dust myself off, so I gleam,

Let my lungs be full of air that is real clean. 

Walking away from the dirt, dust and grime, 

I lived my life, I've done more than my time. 

Wrapped up in chains, manacles on my wrists, 

Hope so fragile it's broken with a little twist,

I tried to be myself and I just got shot down. 

So, I made myself smile like the Joker, a clown. 

I made myself laugh so it looked like I was fine,

And nobody noticed, or saw, my warning sign. 

I was letting my anger and frustration out, 

Unhealthy ways, fighting, I had not one doubt. 

I would live or I would die, it was simple as that, 

And I lived my life; I was like a gutter rat,

Survival was the key, I couldn't spare anything,

All of my energy was spent on just breathing. 

Making it through each day is so god damn hard, 

Especially when you leave your heart charred. 

I didn't try to fix it, I just let it all be. 

After several years of suffering, you get me. 

I cannot breathe in too deeply, I fear

That the damage in my heart has caught me here, 

Maybe I'm dying, I cannot feel pain once again, 

I lay here, it's the end. Maybe I'm not insane?