I see this boy, i've come to know.
He cries alone, curled up at home.
His pain is invisible, something inevitable.
He won't let you in, trying, you would fail.
All he wants is clarity, something he doesn't seem to know.
He inhales, exhales and digs a little deeper, hoping for something new.
All he recognizes is the crimson, same as the night before.
It gets more enticing every night.
He strives for comfort.
He wants to end the fight.
He musters the strength to change his ways,
And heal his injuries he designed himself.
He will forget his pain.
Not now, not today.