I write from the bleeding edge
from razor blades and coffin nails
from suicide and sacrifice
I write from my ugly face
and the beauty of my words
I write from love and loss and sorrow
and the end of the only thing that
ever really mattered
I write the whisper into screaming night
I write the plea for mercy or the
cold release of death
I write as poets always have
in their desperate prayer
I write in love and despairing hope
I write to you
Fragment 0.2
