Requiem for my Childhood
And I ask myself every time, why I keep running back to you
Countless times, although you've given me nothing
Why I turn back
To stare at you in the rearview mirror of my mind
Even as you pull me closer to the edge,
The edge that I fear so deeply
For if I were to fall, I would break
As I am made of glass
No longer the perfect puzzle of flesh, bone, and blood
Except I would not fear the landing,
But the euphoria I might feel
As I tumble down the darkness to my self-inflicted demise
Which is why I stay close enough to the edge
To glimpse you in my mirror
Enthralled by the darkness
And repulsed by my love of it
Why? I ask myself
Can I not leave you behind?
When you've ripped red from my body,
Sanity from my brain,
And innocence from my heart
I am no longer a child
For no child is enticed by the beauty of one's blood on a blade
Metallic and fresh, tainting the pure shine
And no child is attracted to that violet red
Dripping on their flesh
A child draws with crayons
Not with silver on a living canvas
And no child looks at a knife
And feels their wrist begin to tingle
No, that child sees only apple slices and cheese
To eat at the table, legs swinging
I am no longer a child
Although my body begs to differ
But beneath my cut skin lies a weathered mind
And a heart scarred deeper than any child could imagine
I have stood by the edge for too long I am addicted
And this addiction scares me,
For how could I crave something
So destructive and adamant for my downfall?
But what I fear the most
(not the edge, like most children would)
Is that I will not know if I have fallen
Until it is too late.