Madness becomes an artist

Can you see me
Everything that I can not be
Can you see...

Infected
I am injected
By the fires inside my mind
That I push through when I write

Rejected
But I like it
I am not afraid
Of the words that leave me in this state

So say it
Why won't you say it
You fear this wet mess
As much as I love my madness

I need my madness to create
The honesty you love to hate
I need those voices in my head
The sickness that guides my hand

And I need my mortality for this
To raise my arm and make a fist
To fight back now for when I could not
For when I was a child and I was distraught

I can't stop picking at the scabs
Scratch the wounds that drove me mad
To keep myself from going insane
Showing the insides of my brain


So I open myself up completely
Cut my skin and slither in deeply
Push aside the bones and see how I feel
This is the only way that I can heal
And boy,
This is healing

I have less boundaries than you crave
I have less of the lessons on how to behave
I am drained by the sweet poetry inside
And I am I

There is no way out of my mind but that of art
With a sick pleasure I am picking myself apart
For what I create, I have to find myself
And still there is more of me to tell

I traded in the fine lines of society
For the brutal honesty
Of art

With this note I confess and rewind
To tell you I am in love with my mind
When it empties itself on paper