My blood smoothers paper
My wrists slashed move gracefully
Little dashes and lines form "words"
And the funny thing about these "words" is that some say they hold "power"
Power of emotion?
Power to heal?
Power to hurt?
I do not myself know
But I get eurphoric seeing the blood soak into the paper
Engraving it with my wishes
My sick twisted fantasies
The little safe bubble in my head
Hidden by my outside shell
A pretty little act, a play
Something petty for entertainment I live
A dancing puppet bent down to the will of the puppeteer of soceity
Each person holds a string tied down chaining up my will
Though my hands still flow melodically
My mind tables turn and spin
In some what might call a dizzing mess of chaos
As my hands slam against the parchment
A "boom!" of thunger crashes
Lightning is my power
Something electrifying and deadly
The essence of my being caught in the storm we call "life"
The rain is my tears pounding down
People sheild them away with big "umbrellas" ignoring my cries
My winds gust as emotions they just hide and deal with the buffering
The tears mix with the blood
Causing the power to run
Though as it spreads tainting the paper
Do my tears make me stronger or weaker?
My wrists slashed move gracefully
Little dashes and lines form "words"
And the funny thing about these "words" is that some say they hold "power"
Power of emotion?
Power to heal?
Power to hurt?
I do not myself know
But I get eurphoric seeing the blood soak into the paper
Engraving it with my wishes
My sick twisted fantasies
The little safe bubble in my head
Hidden by my outside shell
A pretty little act, a play
Something petty for entertainment I live
A dancing puppet bent down to the will of the puppeteer of soceity
Each person holds a string tied down chaining up my will
Though my hands still flow melodically
My mind tables turn and spin
In some what might call a dizzing mess of chaos
As my hands slam against the parchment
A "boom!" of thunger crashes
Lightning is my power
Something electrifying and deadly
The essence of my being caught in the storm we call "life"
The rain is my tears pounding down
People sheild them away with big "umbrellas" ignoring my cries
My winds gust as emotions they just hide and deal with the buffering
The tears mix with the blood
Causing the power to run
Though as it spreads tainting the paper
Do my tears make me stronger or weaker?