doesn't relate to the poem, nd some may laugh but that's a perfect example of dedication with constipation; he doesn't give a shit.

When I didn't like what I saw. I'd close my eyes...
Whispered to myself it wasn't happening; fed myself lies...
Physically; Scabs turn to scars, they heal...
Emotionally, they're permamnent, can kill...
Growing up I closed my eyes, it'd be over sooner or later...
Closed my eyes, didn't have to see any of it. It felt safer...
My hearts always been sensitive. So when she cried, I'd hide her...
Id close my eyes; it felt safer. It was dark, it wAs brighter...