What Do You Really Know?

Please Let me Out! Please, I wanna leave. I wish I could show you, If I did you wouldn't see. If I told you my truth, You wouldn't know what to believe. You'd swear I was making it up. But I didn't . I've lived through it. I got all the scars and memories to prove it. I'm insane they say. No its how I was raised. Always in the streets And in a car for days. When I close my eyes I see the men on top of her. Her screaming out her lungs, But I block it out to just a blur. I see my young self Running to push him off. I quickly shake my head Not liking the result. I see my younger self In a house full of people, I was sitting by my uncle. I wanted to runaway, but he grabbed me by my ankle. NO! I see myself now, Sitting here,writing this poem. And when you finally read it, You'll think you'll be so knowing. But you only know an eighth of it. Only the parts I'm showing.