Blood trickles from my fingers,
From my hands
gripping the pen tighter
with barbwire wrapped around it
The physical pain
Puts distance between me
and my emotions
Ink drips out as it mixes with my blood
Writing shallow words on paper
making my life more tolerable
As the hatch to my traumatized self
stays shut for just a little while longer.

If only his hatred
Was as transient
As her love
His rage burns with passion
Yet all her love
Is lost.

I am flesh and bone
No blood in between
I am a blade of grass
So delicate and green
I am indescribable
As the water
I am the sun
Every minute, burning hotter
I am as dead as stone
Gray and lame
I am so alive
Rich red blood
Coursing through my veins
I am cold like the snow
Icy, and frozen
Yet I am melting
Mellow in motion
I am so strong
Try and break down my walls
It is built thick
And ensured to never fall
I am so weak
My barriers are cracking
I can't hold it any longer
My fortress is tumbling
My soul is dry
Like the page of a book
I am an artist
Always misunderstood

The day to day,
The fake smile imprinted on,
The bare minimum,
Searching for true human contact,
An easy target to cruelty,
The first one to be put down,
Easy to hurt,
Hard to fix,
The one who is used,
Never good enough to keep,
A current moment to become a blurred memory,
The weird outcast in society,
An original copy,
No one listens,
No one sees,
No one understands.