Do not sell your words to devils
who will trade your wisdom for gold and trinkets.

Do not sell your love to any random house
They have no interest in the maintenance of your meaning

Do not sell your heart to strangers,
if they do not have a soft hand

Do not jump into the sea,
If you have yet to find comfort on the land

You have red, blue, and white pills on your hand
Drink it up and make it stop
All the pains in your heart.
But, you are better than that.
Better than the people who called your body.
Better than the people who called you ugly.
Cause you are wanted.

You have knife on your hand,
Ready to cut your wrists
Bleed out all those aches and worries.
But, you are better than that.
Better than your problems.
Better than your miseries.
Cause you are important.

You have rope on your hand,
Lace it around your neck
Drown your mind, drown your demons.
But, you are better than that.
Better than your ugly thoughts.
Better than the voices in your head.
Cause you are not alone.

And you did the best for staying alive.

how lucky are we,
to be living in an earth
with a shadow so big
it could cover a blue moon
in a night sky so dark and wide,
that despite being hundreds of miles away from our families,
we still get to watch the same phenomenal sight that they too could see?

My skin is my canvas
But instead of paint
I use pain
Instead of a paintbrush
I use a blade

The pain of what they say to my face
One graceful stroke

The pain of what they say behind my back
Two graceful strokes

The pain of my own thoughts
Three less graceful strokes

The pain of my past
Four not so graceful strokes

The pain of how I scare people away  
Five ugly strokes

The pain of feeling alone, not in a crowd alone, just alone
Six disgusting strokes

The more pain I feel,
The more paint I leak
The more disgusted I become;
I now scare myself

But my blood still slowly trickles out
And just like paint, it can be washed away
Nothing too deep to leave a scar,
But deep enough to see my paint

To let the pain trickle out, with the paint
Until the pain starts again
And until I start painting, again