loped and curled the razor wire goes circular
in lacerating motions upon my reflections.
Like confetti of my thoughts descending
or ascending  upwards I cant distinguish I'm
blind to what I grasp on to as all is indistinguishable.

My palms sweats perceptions as I have no object to
illustrate the needing, so I pick up glass and torment
my wrists till I pen my musing on the surroundings.
It was disfigured emotions as every single word
was an ounce of pain to release speaking in silence.

I was a van gogh of illustration my pain painted my
words dripping on the wall. The paint soaked in each
particle of repressed anger and torment, the fluid from
my lacerated thought now like snow settled on this wall.
But this was snow urinated in blood I look blank at my words.