Enough

"We are masters of the unsaid words but slaves of those we let slip out."

- Winston Churchill 

Do I dare? Do I spill my blood for you?

Or is it for me?

The words trap and consume, never letting the meaning run free

Not good enough.

The page empty, drained by the letters stabbing in

I stabbed them because I want you to feel it

But they only hurt me

Can you feel it?

Do you see me?

No. Not good enough. I am still alone. 

Please listen

Feel the curve of my pen make sorrow

Feel it make life

Feel me peele my ghostly skin back and expose my bones to you

Go deeper

See the way my blood flows, strong and corrupt

I am pure even as the dirt under my nails falls to the paper

I am brave even as I cower behind the pen

But I am not honest for I write in pencil

Soft and broken, easily erased, easy to make disappear

I control it, I am the master of emptiness

Slave to the full 

Let me bleed for you and stain the shirt your mother picked out for you

Let me tarnish your shoes with dirt and step on your toes

Let me show you pain. 

No. Not good enough.

I draw with stencils, neat and already placed

The pencil does not belong to me

Is this why you can't hear me? Are these not my words? 

They have belonged to others, I do not deserve these words

But still, I use them

I bleed for you

My blood spills into the tightly packed letter stencils 

It pools around the walls and falls to the ground,

Dirty and elusive, they miss the paper

Not good enough.

Your eyes pin me, paralyze me

The blues and browns are so beautiful 

They disgust me because I have no eyes, they have been stolen by the page 

Let me go. 

I am screaming

Hear me.

Listen.

For the words are empty and I write nothing

They are mine. Not yours today. 

Let them eat me tonight for dinner so you may eat yours

Maybe tomorrow I will be consumed

But today I am free

My hand is strong while I erase my blood from the paper 

Leaving nothing but the comforting blindness of white

The notes are mine;

You can't listen if there is no sound

So I ask nothing of you

And of me?

Maybe tomorrow I will be just enough.