Inked fangs

...and I'd trade my blood for something holy

to raise this soul from self-inflicted perdition...

I stand for myself.For this raggedy soul I call my own.I stand for every sigh,ever tear,every smile.All that I am is splattered across the Universe in the form of imaginary atoms and DNA-stained lies.I cannot be put in a box,I will not be labeled by small minds and dirty claws.Who are you to tell me fascination is blinding?That my love stands on a foundation made up of dust and ghosts?I refuse.I refuse to consider these hallow ideas as an undeniable truth.Though my being feels like a crumbling machine,I will not give in.Even if I end up summing just a big bag of bones,I will still use each and every one to write down a story that has never been told before,that will never be forgotten-my own...

Laugh if you wish to,you think my spirit cares for such burlesque display of emotion?The Hell I've made up for myself is way worse than your pitiful attempt,I can assure you!It doesn't matter,though.What's mine is mine and only a higher power can take that away from me.Not a stupid remark,not a silly joke,not you.You,blind girl!You,staged society!You,tireless voice that creeps up at the least appropriate moment!I care too much,don't I?I say I don't,but I do.My God in Heaven,I do!I am bound to my peers like a tree to a forest-unique,but the same.A young woman who writes,fears love and rarely speaks her own mind in public-well,mark me down as "obvious stereotype"!I'm tired.I'm hungry.I want to go home.I want to cry.Weep,actually.I want something to make it all better.I want confidence.Power.Hope.I want...too much,apparently.