The Battles We Wage In Our Minds

I can't find who you are to me -- you've destroyed every single good thing I've left of you.
All I have are memories now, still frames, I've hung on my wall. Pretty soon you'll find them too and crush them like you always do.
I need no reason to be angry with my God
So stop.
Look.
Listen.
But you never listen.


A smile on your face is a slap on mine.
Why and how can you be happy? When you've left me with nothing at all?
A scar that never fades - a wound that never heals - a tired, battered soul - a voice too small.
(That's what I've left from you)

And a son
With beauty I cannot fathom
I've something left from you -- more than the pain, this surpasses them all
A son I can call my own
A son from you
My son.
I won this battle after all.