Teenage Dirtbag

I've given up on pen and paper,
and settled on carving my skin.
Every fucking word you've ever spoken,
inked out on a tan fondant of self doubt.
Letting the blood stain this hand-me-down couch
as I watch independent movies
about fucked up people
just so I won't feel so alone.
The sadness,
or maybe realization,
or self recognition,
spreads the carving to my heart.
What a bloody fucking mess,
spilling within my tainted body.
The blood spills,
but never escapes,
and still my mind races.
Wishing only to find my own obsession,
the kind that takes over your
body, mind, and half carved heart.
finding more than entertainment
within this movie...
feelings to deep to describe,
so I paint them across my skin
with the blade of this knife.