A Canvas Of ScarsMy entire body is just a canvas
of my pathetic life.
My body, bruised and scarred
from the abuse of others,
and some of my own doing.
A canvas that was painted throughout years,
the brush forged from denial,
the oil void of hope.
Am I just a rejected soul,
that society will never love?
Or was I a misunderstood boy,
who will one day become suicidal?
My lost hope began
at such a small age,
a five year old innocently at play.
Age nine a secret emerges within my soul,
but has yet shown it's devious little head
Age twelve certain curiosities sprout in my mind,
that a normal boy shouldn't be having.
Looking at boys in a peculiar way,
strong desires filling the heart.
Age sixteen still denying what I truly am,
the others around me casting me away.
I try as hard as I can to drown my denial
in drugs and self mutilation
Age eighteen, where I am now,
looking back at what a fool I was.
All the abuse I inflicted on myself,
has become one of many drugs I am addicted to.
What am I to do?