I have yet to know why,
Why people cannot understand my choices.
The language I speak is simple,
But people just don't seem to understand it.
My writing is my only source of escape,
Escape from the reality that is mine.
My heart hurts, as does my mind,
I need a smokescreen to run away.
Fear keeps me staying,
And this I know will lead me to a padded cell.
Here I stay with my brokenness,
And I pray that my cries and pleas are heard by God.