I know that somewhere a poem wants to written
But I can't find where it is
I've looked all over this house
Searching for the story to be told

I look in the kitchen, the place where I binge
The place where I eat stress and grief into oblivion
But it's not the right story, so I keep looking

I look in the bathroom, the place where I break down
The place where I sit in the tub, in the fetal position, crying
But it's not the right story, so I keep looking

I look in the living room, the place where I'm scolded
Where I listen to my father scream about things I can't control
But's it's not the right story, so I keep looking

I look in my room, the place where I nurse my hurt feelings
The place where I escape my life and emotions
The place where blood drips from wrists
And onto the paper, forming into letters
Documenting my pain for the world....
I can stop looking now