The Secrets We Hide

Red rover, red rover

Give me the luck of a four-leafed clover.

God knows that 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

molding 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 it's not 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 that 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.