Freedom while in prison
Memories of past mistakes still burn,
Keeping me awake even when I'm asleep,
Filling my heart with forgotten pain that continues to cut deep,
Giving me old reasons to hate what I am,
Supplying new reasons to endure pointless injuries,
Each one an attempt to escape the life I live,
Taking me further from the freedom I already have,
Locking me way in death's unbreakable embrace.
But voices can be ignored,
Flames can be doused,
Wounds with time can be always healed,
And memories can be forgotten.
Death doesn't offer the freedom I seek and it never will,
The only thing it offers is a hole in the ground,
And a life of pain and questions to those that are always left behind.
Wrote while doodling along to My Chemical Romance and The Used. Sorry if it is dark, I was actually trying to write something positive to all those people that care about me (I'll make it up to each of you guys in my next attempt at poetry).