Maybe

Blood.
Wounds that won't heal,
that I won't let heal.

Pain.
Something I need,
something I've become.

Paranioa;
consumes every waking moment,
keeps me up late at night.

Schizophrenia.
What is told to my face;
crazypsychofuckedup,
whispered behind my back.

Mental disorder;
written on paper,
written in my blood.

Dangerous.
Stamped on my forehead
instilling fear into everyone I meet.

Maybe you should stay away,
maybe I am dangerous.
Maybe the media is right,
maybe you will only be hurt.
Maybe, just maybe
I will kill you.