How can I tell you?
That I prefer a different sort of art.
The type of writing that strangles me,
only to then rip me apart.

Lure me into your deepest waters,
and leave me there to drown.
I want to bargain for fresh air,
in the depths of your truest sound.

Scream it out to me, if you please;
your scathing and bitter reality.

Tell us how it really is.
In the pits of your lovely soul:
douse the words in gasoline,
and leave the readers to burn.

Conjure up an image,
if you're so bold?:

About the nightmares and the torment
when the world leaves you exposed.
When you're shivering and anxious,
and left utterly alone.

When hypothermia overtakes you
and you rip off all your clothes.
When you descend into delirium,
and embrace the inevitable cold.

Embark on a journey of madness,
and write it all out for me.
With your most beautiful pen:
Your delicate hatred for humanity.

Tell me every little thing,
you can't express with your mouth.
Make your letters all elegant -
just to stab them all out.

Jab the pen into your heart,
and let it all bleed throughout.
The beautiful darkness of your soul,
that you can never talk about.

© Merrr