What kept me?

Here in the dark.
I hear the poundin' of my heart.
And the body art.
That are.
These scars.
On my arms.
Dance by the fire light.
Calm.
As the night air.
Right there.
The knife again.
No longer pain.
As it punctures my skin.
And I leave it in.
The blood is thin.
Runnin'
Down the muscle fibres.

drip.

drip.

drip.

It's a trip.
I'm taking.
There's no mistaking.
And certainly no fakin'
When I'm breaking.
My own body.
When the bag's on my back.
Going to find a new pack.
Leaving when the sky is black.
Add in the fact.
That.
While I'm running from you.
You only have youself to blame.
For all the pain.
The shame.
I feel.
Non of this is real.
It's dream.
And I scream.
With the anger of the weakness.
The bleakness.
In the fact I turned around.
And came back again.
This hold they have.
Must break at some point.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

It's my feet in the mud.
Running home.
Before.
They open my bedroom door.
And find my bed empty.
Here I have pleanty.
Of friends.
Family too.
There, I have the freedom.
To run by myself.
Be something else.
But still.
They pull me home.
Every time, I try to go alone.
And it's always in my chest.
The best and worst part of my anatomy.
A fact to me.
That always.
My heart.
Keeps me here.