Should sting.
They should make you want to crawl out of your flesh prison.
They shouldn't be flowery.
Nor sweet, simple, and easy to read.
My words bite at your arm,
Like the truth of society burns your eyes.
These words are the venom in my bones.
T H I S I S M Y P A I N
Feel it as deep as I was forced to at 8.
This is the truth.
My words may never be full of light.
But the world holds a flashlight,
And pretends that they can see.
I may be 'deranged'
But a t l e a s t
I
C A N
S e e