The elephant in the room is me.
My madness sprawled over this seat and generations to follow, like a bad smell it will linger in hearts and memories.
My epitaph "mad as a box of frogs".
No one chooses this path,
arms tattooed with hieroglyphic scars and
a liver rotting with overdoses.
Spilling madness like tears,
traumatizing loved ones with my DNA.
This madness grew from a thump,a slap and a punch.
It grew from malignant touch and threats;
and it was never chosen,
but the elephant in the room is still me.