Secrets

Red rover, red rover
Give me the luck of a four-leafed clover.
God knows I need it,
after the hardships left me broken.

Broken down, defeated;
with which the eternal fires created
the soul of which is mine now,
black as coal and numb.

Nothing but a shadow of the past,
of something that couldn't last.
Not that I didn't try,
but I just couldn't bring myself to lie.

Yet, isn't that what we all do?
So that people won't pick up on the clue
that we so eloquently leave behind,
praying someone will see inside.

See inside our tortured souls
where the blood seeps into the marble bowls;
and the nooses hang from bannisters
with pill bottles opened and emptied.

Demons from the past
who run as banshees; fast
and loud, unable to stop
the terrible painful wails.

The same demons who
just yesterday, flew
up to the heavens above
or the pits below.

The demons that we cast away
praying that they would stay
where we placed them in our minds
till the very day we die.

But demons like to come out to play
and turn our minds into clay
moulding what they will,
until we are nothing but their mindless ghouls.

We roam the earth until we die
and our damaged souls fly;
but nobody on earth truly knows
the secrets that our soul bestows.

From cheating, crying, and assault
we claim that its all our fault.
That someone couldn't hold back;
or that we let our loved ones die.

Scars zig zag across our wrists
and knuckles are broken on our fists
for the glass we punch
just to feel an ounce of emotion.

Our souls are forever tainted
just like the canvas is painted
with the lies that we tell,
and the secrets we keep.