Crawling

Yamato



Crawling in my skin
These wounds they will not heal
Fear is how I fall
Confusing what is real

I'm walking home from school. The sky is dark, the air is moist, my skin feels uncomfortable in the humid atmosphere. Rain is coming. Another day gone. Nothing acomplished. I had gotten into a fight today. I seem to be getting in more and more. My temper was explosive. I can't control it. I don't even try. It scares me, my own temper. It's like there's a demon in me that's released every time I lose my temper.

I lifted my arm and looked at it. There was a purple-red bruise on it, it was swelling. Dried, cotted blood stuck to it. It looked really nasty. There was a large scrap on my other arm. The other kid had knocked me skidding along the cement, scraping the arm. It hurt like hell. My face didn't show it. Why couldn't I have more self-control? I can never stop myself from attacking. Even if they were my friends. I recall all the times I had attacked Tai in the Digiworld. If I wasn't in control. Who was?

There's something inside me that pulls beneath the surface
Consuming, confusing
This lack of self control I fear is never ending
Controlling, I can't seem....
To find myself again
My walls are closing in
(Without a sense of confidence and I'm convinced
That it's just too much pressure to take)
I've felt this way before
So insecure

I don't really have much confidence in myself. My anger controls me. No one controls my anger. They tell me to control myself. They don't understand that I've tried. And I've given up. Is this normal? Why can't I control it? My mind spins, and rain starts to fall. Lightly at first, drops of water splattering against my skin. Wetness soaked into my wounds, they stung. They rain poured down harder. The sound of raindrops thudded against the ground, cars, fences.

Soon the sound became deafening. I was soaked in a matter of minutes. Now my wounds hurt like hell. The pain, however, dulled after a few minutes. My nerves became used to the sensation and I no longer felt it. I have many wounds. Fights. Many fights, many wounds. The wounds never healed, everytime they came close to it, I got into another fight and the wounds were reopened. They will never heal. As I will never learn to control myself.

Crawling in my skin
These wounds they will not heal
Fear is how I fall
Confusing what is real

Fear. What do I fear? I fear fear. Some old dead guy said that once right? Some president or something. I can't remember. "There is nothing to fear but fear itself." Was that true? I feared myself, I realized. I fear that my anger will go wildly out of control one day. I hurt people in fights. I always win my fights. My opponents get sent to the nurse and are almost always absent the next day. What if the anger overwhelmes me next time? What if I totally lose it? What if I kill?

Self control. I don't have it. Who am I? A hot-tempered jerk. Who do I want to be? I don't know. I was cold. The rain kept coming, yet I didn't speed my pace. I wasn't in a hurry to get home, really. No one would be there. No one to talk to. I could talk to Takeru. Would he be at Mom's place? Probably. Would he listen. Of course. Would he think me insane. Yeah. I felt uncomfortable. Rain, cold, wet, why shouldn't I?

Discomfort, endlessly has pulled itself upon me
Distracting, reacting
Against my will I stand beside my own reflection
It's haunting how I can't seem...
To find myself again
My walls are closing in
(Without a sense of confidence and I'm convinced
That it's just too much pressure to take)
I've felt this way before
So insecure

Who am I? I can't find myself. I'm a lost soul somwhere. A lost soul with a fiery temper. Why can't I control it? I don't know. No one will give me answers, no one. I was angry suddenly, who was there to help me? No one! No one! I was alone in this world. Life is unfair. I was damned to this life. Why? The pain in my wounds came back to me. My skin buzzed with hurt. I ran a hand through my wet, ruined hair. You are a little, lost, bastard with a problem, Yamato. No one wants to help you. How true.

Crawling in my skin
These wounds they will not heal
Fear is how I fall
Confusing what is real

Crawling in my skin
These wounds they will not heal
Fear is how I fall
Confusing, confusing what is real

What is real to me? My life? It was just a nightmare. What is real to me? I don't know. I just don't know. How can I find my answers? I turned and faced a brick wall. I need to release my anger. I needed to use it. I needed to,...or I swear I would go insane. Without thinking, I retracted my arm and sent it into the brick. Pain. Stupid. Blood. My fist was not bloody and painful. That's my problem, I don't think. Stupid. Stupid. Why am I like this? Can't someone answer me? I growled to myself. No one could, no one would. This is my life. It sucks. I turn again and head home. Home wasn't so sweet.

© Kiriska