I bleed.

Every bit of chaos in my heart and head

I bleed onto the paper

Begging it to take everything

And it drinks in absolute thirst

Comes to life from my chaos

Thriving on it

Words grinning a mad glint

Like they are on fire

But the singing flames give them happiness

They take and take

Until I am empty again

And white noise in the black abyss

Is all gray of peace

But the paper beseechs yet

Calls to give my gray

Says it will smear colours

Maybe I get greedy

I pour out the blankness


It scoffs, demands even

But I have nothing to offer

Though still a hunger to sate

Till there's ink where there was red

And my gray-calm has dripped onto it

Hair in hands, trying to sever its hold

But there's a glimpse of my madness in its veins after all

I gave life to this mutant staring back at me

I am born of that dregs, it whispers

I took your pain, I numbed you into the blank high

All the while burning in your blood

Take blame, it says, feed me, keep me alive

Guilt, that this is born of my heart

So, I try to bring colours

They evaporate the second they are imprisoned in a word.

Poison! It screams

All that's false and forced, it kills me


What pain do I nurture you with?

When you have drained it every time it festered in my veins

You, so accustomed to being stained

Yet cannot take a colour apart from misery

Why are you alive only when I dye you with that white noise?

That black abyss?

Why does everything else seem false and dying?

Why do you not take happiness when I have so much to offer?

"You", you stir weakly in my thoughts as an answer

"Because this was all I ever was to you.

Someone to save you over and over

Because you saw beauty in this

You twisted source of my life

And now I seem ugly to you."

A final murmur, before nestling back into your tomb

I call to you now, but that fire is long gone

I scourge around in the embers trying to rekindle the spark

All I have to show are singed hands

And words dwindling into the whirlpools of my blood

I wish you were birthed out of something else

So now I bring you to life

Word by word, my monster

Hoping you would be an angel

So I am no longer Frankenstein

And you, you are my poem.