Whatever You Want To Call It. Poem by Lithium Dinosaur

It's weird, the stuff that comes out,
The way other people see it.
The perfect lines that appear on my canvas.
Always perfect, always strange.
The paint glows brightly with life.
The paint glows brightly with life to start with,
But soon turns dull and dark.
I get the feeling they're not supposed to be there,
But I never understood why.
I like the permanent marks.
I can control the permanent marker.
I can drag it along,
And turn anger, sadness, numbness,
and pain into something I understand.
However brilliant it is,
I would never be able to tell,
Never able to show,
And I would never let anyone know.
The lines I paint are perfect,
But they must stay hidden.
The lines I draw are unnaturally parallel,
I would never dare,
To show a soul.
The lines I carve are beautiful.
No one will ever know.
The lines I tare,
The lines I slice,
The lines I embed are deadly.
What if someone knew?