With ink as red as fire

And a pen that's sharp and fine

I cling to what remains

And strike the answers on each line

Paper is born of wood’s flesh

As I am born of tree-bark’s blood and sap

A sculpture of carpenter’s good grace

Completely mutilated

Another day, you understand

That I will write for what you need

Not a single thought escapes my pen

A thing of mass destruction

When you esteem me

I will write a thousand poems in your name

And I won’t expect nor want a world in which

This heart deserves the same

So, I wonder, yеs, I wonder why

The solutions that I calculate

For you thеy will accumulate;

To me they will never apply

I'm crossing them out line by line

No instinct can help me this time

Answer me, my answer key

You're born of foolish empathy

I know you’d never lie to me

So comically aligned to me

So mockingly you're synthesized

I know that I'm no different

I've no means to break free, but

I don't wanna be helped, no

I don't wanna believe you

And I'm tired of being meek

“I’m better picking up a pen than a blade,”

Said the hopeful me

Scribbling sonnets, so erratic, in

The outline of my eulogy, but

My words are cornered by the horror

Of this glass pen

And I don't know if I can live-

I don't know if I can live like this anymore

You are, you are

Bracing for a better day

Every prayer is a sign

That I'm in your way

Too burned through to

Hold me together

When all I wanted was

Your arms to hold me

Here tonight

We are, we are

Suffering together

Each heart and soul

Fighting their own damned fight

I won’t stick around for “forever”

‘cause I dunno if you can stomach

This horrible–

Is a story told if its words are never read?

Can a symphony inspire if the singer’s never named?

Will a poem truly reach if you care not about the poet

As he tirelessly works to prove his page is worth the praise?

Creation’s a gift, oh, creation is life

Though creation is fickle

It thrives in your fingers

It gives and it gives, but

Creation is fickle

It grows out of you when you're

Running out of time

Positioned positive

I've nothing more to say

No will to save this–

The forecast now is grim

The clouds are back, and

The wind is pushing–

Positioned positive

This all-consuming–

It won't get any worse if

I close my eyes and

Succumb

[ INSTRUMENTAL BREAK ]

The more I strike, the more the ink seeps out my veins

I've crossed the line a thousand times

There isn’t much that can

Alarm me anymore

For no matter how many answers I write

Mine holds me here tonight

GOD, I KNOW IT'S NOT CORRECT

BUT IT'S KEEPING ME ALIVE

Not here enough to stay awake

But scared enough to find another way

I am broken but alive

And I will hold out for a better life

Not strong enough, I'm on my own

I'll write my answers here a solemn soul

I will harvest this bitter lime

So maybe one day I'll be alright

Coursing through me’s an emerging urgent sense of dread

As divergent words are surging through a level head

And though they're tangled, oh, my savior is this glass pen

–when there's no sign that this feeling's gonna end

‘Cause the world never pauses for the cowardly

It pushes past the plagued and pageless poet’s elegies

I'll write these thoughts, so lost, contorting ‘till the end

So you won't find me six feet deep, you'll never find me–

I'll be off to love again!

“I'm better picking up a pen then a blade”

And I will write when I can't breathe

I will write when the sky turns wild and green

From the supercell inside of me

I will write when there's nothing left but pain

I will write when the sunlight fades away

And I’ll never fight what I can’t see

But even though I'm fighting alone–

Won't you give me a sign?

(I'M CROSSING THEM OUT LINE BY LINE

NO INSTINCT CAN SAVE ME THIS TIME)

Without reflection I strike this worthless me

(I'LL HARVEST THE FLOWERING VINE

UNDO THE WORK OF THE DIVINE)

Find peace in the pieces of my anatomy

(WITH INK SEEPING THROUGH EVERY SIGN

THAT I SHOULD BE FACING THE LIGHT)

And find a way to love autonomy

(THROUGH EVERYTHING I'VE BEEN DENIED

BECAUSE WHEN IT'S ALL SAID AND DONE)

I'll put my learnings in the answer key

(IT CANNOT BE UNDONE

AND YOU’'LL HEAR WHEN I CRY OUT)

WILL I BE FORGIVEN IF I MAKE IT OUT ALIVE?

And renew what's mine…