Where am I?

By Luis Porraz

I'm traumatized

Haunted by the fact that I'm still alive

Everyday I feel like I'm a sacrifice

Writing confidently to cover these fears 

Tears scream hiding the anguish from torturous years

Ridiculed as a man showing such emotions

Crumbling inside to find a cure, a potion 

Nevertheless he is a continuous victim 

Fighting reflections and people trying to infect him

What does he do? there has to be a solution 

His life is aching, is death the only substitution?

Even the mask is losing the ability to pretend 

He's always running in his head, he hears the knife calling again

Writing is the only escape from this wretched reality

It's corrupting everything including his fantasy...