• I want my heart
    To be written upon a paper,
    To be seen as art,
    A perfect representation
    Of an imperfect life
    On a tower built of words.

    My heart is stabbed
    With my fountain pen;
    My passion fills the reservoir
    Like a syringe's barrel
    And seeps onto paper--
    My blood transfusion.

    I orchestrate my rage,
    My sorrow, my fear,
    My ecstasy, my joy,
    My love...A symphony
    Of raining blood,
    Each note in perfect pitch.

    My eyes grow wide with glee,
    My grin twists with madness.
    My art is complete but delicate,
    Like thinly spun glass
    Upon a clifftop of words
    Teetering over a sea of apathy.

    My heart is written
    Upon a paper,
    Left out to dry
    From my flood of emotions,
    Left out in front of the world
    To be judged.