Hardship

I'm still waiting
For the skeletons
In my closet
Right now
They are fresh
Corpses rotting
 
The smell
Is swirling 
In my brain 
Can't ignore it
I feel vain 
 
When will I 
Get old enough
To say
My skin is tough
 
When will I
Get old enough
To say
My life was rough 
 
The church bells
Sound like mockery
The only god
That still exists 
Wants to make
A fool of me
 
He cut off
My hands
Made me look
Into the eyes
Of a tired man
 
When will I
Get old enough
To say
My skin is tough
 
When will I
Get old enough
To say 
My life was rough
 
I want to
Stop biting
My bleeding 
Aching lips
But I must continue
To keep away sin
 
Because 
I can hear them
Haunting me
Not my ghosts
But it's me they see
 
When will I
Get old enough
To say
My skin is tough
 
When will I
Get old enough
To say
My life was rough
 
I wrapped myself
In acid and
Was laid all
Down to rest
 
But before I could
Even close my eyes
A bet was settled 
On my breast
This poem is about: 
Me

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