I am outside...

Release and closure, simultaneously. 

Unopened Prozac is salvaged by the dustbin. 

I peel out my skin, smile, 
as blood drenched in emotion 
scribe red words on bleak paper. 

Secret, quiet thoughts jump out alive, 
I want to stick my tongue out and lick them, 
perhaps for retention, 
perhaps to avoid inner peace. 
always finding comfort in sadness. 

Rage, defeat, insecurity, carnal wants, primitive desires...
entranced I stare, as my soul possesses the pen gliding across the page. 

Quiet, savage, lust-fulled, ecstasy is felt, 
as emotion is torn and clawed and engraved, 
immortal. 

And within a new space has been created...