By writing these lines

By writing these lines
do I separate myself from you?
By old clichés of feelings
and old expressions about darkness
have I shown myself any different
from any of you?
If we all share darkness
If we all whisper instead of speak
If we all are the same
why would I do this?

One artist in every village
One joker in every castle
One plagued teenager in every home
Two would destroy them
Nonetheless
Their loneliness was never chosen

Only by seeing the bigger picture
can you see that what is good
is less than what is bad
Only by doing this
can you change it
But seeing it
changes you

When we see beyond
we scorn those who have not yet seen
but did we understand those who scorned us
before we saw?

The blind cannot understand sight
The deaf cannot comprehend sound
Thus you
cannot see or hear me
until your mind has grown eyes and ears
No blame on you
All blame on you
And no one I can shout at

Anger
Rage
Like a silent
Beat
In my chest
Like a shadow of a sixth sense
Once known, now forgotten
Ghost pain from a stolen limb

Fists
Teeth
And only my
Eyes
Can still howl
Like the beast starved to silence in its cage
Once howled in the night
Blood dripping from satisfied jaws

Its fangs
Like razor sharp snowflakes
A handful sprinkled in the wind
It has starved
for many nights now