I used to do this
out of spite
Only one reader
No one sees what I write

Poetry never was a vent
But I have nothing else
Prepare for an event

A show, I show
what you'd never know
I never let this out,
but it constantly grows.

You'll never hear me say it
and I'll never say its name
When you know, you know, you know?
But who's truly to blame?

The parent who was accused of a crime?
From my life, that figure was pried
The one who moved across the globe?
"Because of you," that's all she wrote.

It looks like a ****** scene
when you look inside my mind
The blood stains are so obscene
The floor is hard to find

Wood splinters and stubbed toes
Cold winters from broken windows
Slammed doors, the noise is constant
Mystery tours of the messy conscious

Another day, always stressed
It sounds cliche but I'm depressed
My emotions are constantly bottled up
One of these days they will erupt

Blades can't be dull
Bullets can't be slow
One in the skull
and one in the wrist

Maybe a noose,
can't be too loose
Maybe a building,
tall enough to not feel it

Too bad
my body is stronger than my mind
I might've done it one of these days
but if I fail, it could go one of two ways
I try again tomorrow or I get caught
hello counseling.

I got my first tattoo
It's small and on my foot
It's sloppy like my life
And doesn't look that good

But it's not actually my first tattoo
That in fact was you
Not something anyone could see
Painted in me when you knew me