I pour out my soul
In this little book of horrors.
The secrets it now contains
Will be forever misunderstood.
Within it are the curses
Of a life forever diseased
And littered with the corpses
Of a million ghastly woes.
I could’ve been happy
With the innocence of boyhood,
If this were a dream world
Where boys remain unscathed.
But this world is hell
And it rapes boys and girls!
It penetrates their purity
And molests their happy souls.
This world is cruel and cold.
It’s a wasteland of ghosts,
And innocence is lost eternal
In a pool of hot blood.
And so, here I lay
Writing, bleeding it all out
Like a ruptured aneurysm
Flooding the cranial cavity.
From my fingertips of pain
I write my life bare,
Stripped naked for all
To see and to misunderstand.
I pour out my soul
In this little book of horrors.
Nothing is ever secret or safe
From the judgment to come.