I am not one of those people who put up angry notes because of some crazy impulse or a destructive desire to rail against everything that is wrong with the world.
I am not the person whose hands shake so violently,
Whose body shudders so uncontrollably,
That I cannot type straight

But today, I just found out
That people
They pick up my poems
My emotions
Tangible
heavy
difficult
Solidified
Are being picked up
Likened to rags
And treated as cheap caricatures
Of the life I've led

If only they had ever felt
That gut-clenching fear
Of something beneath the surface
The scars that have faded
Covered by new skin
Over the years

If they felt
The need to end their own life
As acutely
As I do

I've never stopped
Not even once
Since the past seven years
It's been right here

Hidden underneath the layers
In between the lines
Read deeper if you dare

If I could write using moonlight
I'd pick up a quill
And break it while
Imprinting your name over and over again
All over your skin and mine
A strange, mismatched puzzle
Tattoos spreading across both our skins
Yearning for the other
The letters reaching out
Across the expanse of space and skin
Attempting to form a complete picture
With each other
And display my masterpiece

Apart- senseless

But placed against each other
They read out
An entire story
Told in two words

Borne of a strange need for possession
I would keep writing until you and I
Would bleed the colours of the evening skies
The silver scars, like intertwining webs
A destiny wound together in a braid

**Inseparable
Unfathomable

If I could write using moonlight
I'd pick up a quill
And break it while
Imprinting your name over and over again
All over your skin and mine
A strange, mismatched puzzle
Tattoos spreading across both our skins
Yearning for the other
The letters reaching out
Across the expanse of space and skin
Attempting to form a complete picture
With each other
And display my masterpiece

Apart- senseless

But placed against each other
They read out
An entire story
Told in two words

Borne of a strange need for possession
I would keep writing until you and I
Would bleed the colours of the evening skies
The silver scars, like intertwining webs
A destiny wound together in a braid

**Inseparable
Unfathomable

If I could write using moonlight
I'd pick up a quill
And break it while
Imprinting your name over and over again
All over your skin and mine
A strange, mismatched puzzle
Tattoos spreading across both our skins
Yearning for the other
The letters reaching out
Across the expanse of space and skin
Attempting to form a complete picture
With each other
And display my masterpiece

Apart- senseless

But placed against each other
They read out
An entire story
Told in two words

Borne of a strange need for possession
I would keep writing until you and I
Would bleed the colours of the evening skies
The silver scars, like intertwining webs
A destiny wound together in a braid

**Inseparable
Unfathomable