The silence that fills his ears mirrors the emptiness that lives within him.
Yet the chaos that controls his mind
penetrates as deeply as the scars that litter his skin.
It is the only thing he can control;
where, how deep, how many, how often.
The pain giving him an adrenaline and endorphin rush
and a temporary glimpse of freedom
from his growing madness.
The secrets he hides from everyone
remain locked inside him,
and lay at the center of his turmoil.
To disclose them to anyone is impossible,
for he has no real friends to speak of,
not one who truly understands his position,
no one to help him through his maze of confusion.
With no direction or guidance,
he spirals into a darkness
that envelops him so completely
that his essence is worse than lost,
it is morphed into something so unrecognizable,
that showing his face would be as hideous
as revealing his self-inflicted medication.
he has lost all will of recovery.
Bitter and cold,
convinced that no good exists
and that the outside world has abandoned him
to this family of corruption
these monsters tease him,
allure him, entice him,
and make him believe that his potential
has withered away into nothingness
like the friends and the life
he has never known.
Drowning in his sea of self-pity and despair,
another cut separates his skin
as his body cries ruby tears
which he ignores in favor of the high their liberation gives him.
As he watches them flow down his arm,
he envies their escape;
no longer within him, they are free
the way he will forever crave to be.