There are parts of me so dark even I don’t wish to dwell there too long,
pieces of my life no-one will ever hear about unless you happen to have been there,
things I cannot acknowledge I was a part of, even instrumental in creating,
and there they remain, forevermore carved into my psyche, onto my bones.
What madness made them mine,
what sanity escaped me,
what reasoning allowed them in…
...…that’s the side of me that is disturbed and detached,
forms impulses that scare me, reactions too foreign to be my own.
This fearful darkness is a part of me I guard,
prevent it from being seen, from gaining a foothold in my reason,
and I’d rather bear the scars as it claws at me, fully knowing I am harming myself,
for as much as they hurt me, they can hurt you too.