Lost Innocence

An innocent creature is screaming at the night-light,
Desperate to cling onto it's dreams.
For what needs to be fixed if you cannot see what is broken,
Scanning the insides of it's eyelids to find imagination.
The crack in the door let's in a light which splits the sky.
Fear waits in a lit hall as stumbling footsteps and staggering shadows,
The only time a voice is loud enough to be distinct,
It is raised to abuse something raised for abuse.
The cot is scattered across the room,
And the screws sit within a bag which threatens to suffocate.
Early to develop a fixation with auto-asphyxiation.
Dead batteries in a damp bear now more akin to a sloth
Covered in mould, squeezed until broken for it cannot speak.
The mobile keeps ringing as it's hinges rub together
No one's called, no one calls.
Metallic birds soaring past the ceiling tiles
Like flies behind glass.
But the lullaby is playing, and the innocent thing is in a ball in the corner.
Surrounded by darkness, dreaming of nothing and constantly humming
It's innocence dies with the splinters in it's skin,
And the intention to bleed on it's mind.
Humming to it's lullaby and replacing feelings with pain,
And I wonder, did I ever change?