Me

Looking back I would’ve never guessed that he would turn out like this. 
He’s cold, doesn’t feel anything because when it comes to him, he’s just something people dismiss. 
He tries to be strong, no doubt,
But he is still very weak everyday, so he cries out. 

He hides behind a smile,
Faking everyday. 
Forcing the belief that he needs attention. 
So lonely in a corner of his room like if he was in detention. 

In all actuality he hates it. 
He only wants to share all of himself with one person. 
And he shows anyone who will look,
But only for a short time because all the desire he once had, she took. 

He’s uncomfortable and hates himself for it,
But he knows no other way. 
To him it feels good to have the attention of someone who will listen to what he has to say. 

Nobody looks at him beyond his sweetness. 
Nobody cares beyond his meekness. 
So he finds an escape no one can see. 
He isolates himself from everyone and throws away the key. 

That way he can suffer alone. 
The suffering takes him to thinking what to say on his tombstone. 
On the outside no one can tell,
Not truly, tell that he is living in hell. 

He used to be so bright. 
So cheerful,
So innocent. 
He used to be a delight. 

I miss him. 
I know he’s still there. 
He’s just too far from reach. 
I hope in fact he still exists and didn’t vanish into thin air. 

Now he’s battered down. 
He is used. 
He’s a true shell of himself. 
He is bruised. 

He only knows that so called “love”
From body to body,
And between wrinkled sheets.
With the experiences it reminds him of his defeats. 

So he is left with haunting thoughts,
And outward actions. 
Accepting false truths and lies coated by “love” and dissatisfactions.