Why is it so dark?

The last thing I remember is the screaming and the crying,
the lashing and the beating.
I cover my eyes once more,
just to let the epiphany of my happiness
completely disintegrate.

All these memories running
through my fragile mind like flashing lights.
I want it to stop.
My mind goes back down the lane
of the mental abuse from my childhood.
Never was it physical,
but it always felt like hundreds of people
beating up on me
all at once.

Through the nights of endlessly crying myself to sleep,
the words that swept my mind
lashed out at me,
hurting me even more.

Sometimes I wished to be a butterfly,
one that would go back in time and make things right.
But at the same time,
not.
As much as I hate myself,
I don't want to change me.
Me being me is the only thing keeping myself from going insane,
even if I had to be fake at times.
It's my own persona.
After all,
everything happens for a reason.

My mind goes back to the
multiple times I wanted to yell at my parents,
to express my true feelings.
But fear overtook me,
claiming it was greater than courage,
and I kept silent.
No one wants to deal with the pain that follows,
even if it's beautiful.

I think back to the many times
I've been abandoned.
What was it about me
that kept everyone away?
I wonder.

Feelings are hard to grasp.
My mind would perfectly express my anger and sadness through imagination,
but I would mask it all with pretend happiness to keep everyone from leaving.
No one wants to continuously be around someone who's depressed and broken more than you could imagine.
I've never had that comfort.

I opened my eyes and took
my hands off of my ears upon hearing the noise stopping.
But,
was the noise even there to begin with?
Maybe it was just
my imagination.