I don't let my emotions out
not to anyone I've ever met

and most would describe me as cold and uncaring

My counselor let slip she thinks I could be a killer
Personally, I think she wishes I would
so she can write a book or something
Ah, the world of psychiatry

Sometimes my anger slips out like a tunnel of rage
and I let go on anyone who stands in my way

that’s why I stopped carrying a knife
and why I stopped thinking about dead things
and the way those animals felt in my hands while
taking their dying breaths

and the way their eyes looked
Like something I've seen in the shadows of my bedroom at night

like something I see in my smile and the sharp corner of my left canine when I cut my tongue on it last May

you could say im crazy but I'd probably just laugh
and then continue sharpening my razors

and my mother found my pistol in the living room air vent
and I almost shot her then

But here I am just writing this poem
and do you ever wonder what I really am

everyday I wear all black
and red lipstick really compliments how pale I am

I change my hair color constantly in hopes no one can ever really know me

and I never use my real name when meeting someone
I have 6 aliases and I use them all

and last year I deleted my Facebook
and now I have a twitter by the name of Wednesday Hayward

and two weeks ago I snuck into your house and left no DNA
and I wonder what you'd say if anyone knew my real name