• I keep digging,
    I can’t dig deep enough to get rid of it
    It keeps finding its way to the surface
    I can’t sleep at night; it’s trying to dig
    It’s way out of my head…
    My mind itches.
    While thoughts scratch at the sores in my head
    Until they bust open,
    They bleed over everything.
    Until I can’t feel…
    I’m numb, but I still hear the scratching,
    It’s in my ears
    Filling my head with secrets
    It’s trying to tell me something
    But I’m afraid if I listen
    I’ll end everything.
    Is there something wrong with me?
    I keep asking myself
    When will I wake up?
    I’m not happy here…



    It’s somewhere between three or four in the morning as much as I hate time, I find my world centered around it. I guess you can say I’m obsessed. Sitting here listening to each second go by, tick tick tick… I lay here motionless so I can almost feel the time, but there’s nothing. It only makes me feel more paranoid, like there’s a bomb about to go off. How much time do people waste doing useless things? Maybe that’s why I can’t fall asleep. Even worse, whenever I manage to enter dream world just the slightest noise wakes me. I need silence; I envy corpses and how silent they must lie rotting in their cages. I close my eyes trying to imagine death one more time, tick tick..
    Please get me out of here.


    6:03
    I can hear him now every day is exactly the same. If one detail of his life changes, it sets him off. A couple minutes pass and I can hear the floorboards creak until he’s at my door, checking to make sure I’m asleep, safe and sound. Every summer I disappear from the world, and every summer no one seems to notice. I can hear noise in the kitchen First he makes his coffee, next some eggs, followed by bacon, and toast. Wait for it, tick tick tick…
    “Haiden, breakfast’s ready!”

    I can’t stand the sound of his voice, but it plays over inside my head like a broken record. I quickly get dressed and start down the stairs. He sits at the far end of the table, he has everything put in its place, even my place on the opposite side of the table, everything right where it belongs. I sit down across from him and slowly slouch down in my seat, he has perfect posture.

    “Haiden, can you please sit up straight?” Daddy loves to control his little puppet.

    I sigh and sit up, the rest of breakfast goes by in silence. It’s Saturday Derek owns his own business so he’s usually never home. Even when he’s gone I have no freedom he likes to keep me locked up in the house like I have some disease. He’s protecting me because I’m all he’s got left since Mother died. It bothers him we have nothing in common, and that I can’t stand being around him. It bothers me how he treats me like some pet instead of his own son. He wants to always keep me busy so he calls home a lot probably worrying I ran away or worse. I can‘t have my own life, the thought of that tortures him. But everything he does has a pattern once I break his pattern, I break his perfect life.


    7:00
    Derek’s dishes are stacked neatly in the drying rack. He gave me a list of chores to complete for the day. He likes to have complete control over everything, even when he’s not around. Day after day of this bull s**t sure makes me miss late nights, the stench of alcohol, and his body collapsed against the floor.