At times, I am
Tempted to blurt out
Everything to this wicked world
I feel like I can't tolerate this pressure
Of unsaid words boiling in my mind
In the hidden corners where nightmares sail.
The playground of joy, now a spectral stage,
Where innocence met a haunting cage.
In shadows of the past, whispers linger,
Ghostly echoes of a childhood's trigger.
Vile, horrifically vile, that I still listen to it

At times, I am
On a rush to reveal the numerous scars
Still oozing out blood, lacerations of childhood
Through the years, the echoes...