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People always ask,
Why I'm so distant and cold,
The answer to the question,
Starts at four years old.

A witness to abuse,
My mother beat like hell,
Too young to do anything,
While tears of fear fell.

Growing up between two parents,
Bitter words between them both,
Planting a seed of confusion and pain,
That swelled like a cancerous growth.

In school I was a target,
An outcast with no friends,
Silently suffering my younger days,
As my sanity slowly bends.

Living like this,
For several years,
Though not alone,
For mother was there to dry my tears.

Until one day,
A man I will not name,
Came to our lives and broke things,
Then put on me the blame.

My mother the fellow victim,
Who couldn't see through his lies,
Took his side through it all,
My life at home I now despise.

Got fed up and moved out,
To live with my father and his wife,
But things only got worse,
And made me hate my life.

In school it was no different,
Plus home life now hell,
For my stepmother didn't like me,
This I know too well.

She was mentally abusive,
Rarely calling me by name,
Rather, "Little fucker", "Dirtbag", "Bastard",
From her mouth constantly came.

My father sat in silence,
Or sometimes took her side,
So I swallowed all my pain and anger,
Holding it deep inside.

To this day I still hold it in,
My means to survive,
Like a pool of acid in me,
Slowly eating me alive.

Now you know the reason,
Of how I came to be me,
A prisoner to my memories,
Never to be set free.