Fractured

Fractured: that's how I've always felt.

A bit broken,

a bit helpless

and still

I get back up.

I try to find a place that's safe.

I try to carry on.

Yet every little thing

is like a ticking bomb.

One mind, seven faces.

I change at home and school.

My friends are saying I'm not sane.

Sometimes, I say it too.

Then there are times I laugh out loud

and pain is just a dream

but those same dreams come back at night, they become reality.

It used to be my waking day.

I had so much fear.

Now all I have are memories

and things only I can hear.

Sometimes I spin and hang

in sun and fields of green

then there are times when darkness

becomes the only thing I see.

the light is only blinding

and the quiet holds my tears

then there are times music is

the only thing I hear

The war has long been over

but there are pictures on my walls.

I gave up everything I had

and now I'm all but gone.

The war has long been over

but I remember every part.

The silent screams.

The tiny things

like starving in the dark.

What once was beautiful

I only see in blood.

The fields I play in all day

where once my brothers stood.

The war has long been over

but things still feel the same.

I stare into the mirror

but I don't know my name.

Numbers rolling overhead

while thundering cannons roar.

A sequence rumbles through my mind

I can't take this any more.

The war has long been over

but things still feel the same.

The enemy is vanquished.

Now I hold all the blame.

I hear the battle brewing,

the breaking of the tide.

The only thing left to break

is what I hold inside.

The war has long been over,

but things still feel the same.

The war has long been over

but I still hold the blame.

The war has long been over

but cannons shake the ground.

The war has long been over

but my sword was not put down.

The war has long been over,

but things still feel the same.

At night the battle rages,

with memories of the slain.

The war has long been over,

but I have not let go.

I sit cocooned, inside my bed,

and shiver from the cold.

The walls should block the wind,

Time should block the screams.

The bath should wash away the blood,

but still... I bleed.

The war has long been over,

but I still feel the same.

The war has long been over,

but I still hold the blame.

Yes, our foes were vanquished

but a couple things remain:

are the silent screams,

the tiny things,

and memories of the slain.

Good bye old war, hello new one.