Ink stains bleed more than I*
Marking wood beneath this thin paper
Like branding thoughts onto a fragile mind
I'm painting pictures on their ****** canvases
Vandalizing the thickest of skulls
Although
I see my questions have yet to pierce your eyes
Will any words to me ever escape your lips?
Have you written my name in your diary of misdeeds, or
Carved it deeper in your bones?
Can you not *feel my fingerprints traverse this poem?
I grow so tired of this effortless disregard
For my crippling self hatred seems no more than a result
Of my inability to hate you
You perfect, breathing  @#!*%