The Pen (Another Psycho Post)

My truth and my pain flows thru my fingers to my pen.  The ink boils with my anger and turns red like the blood from my pain.  The paper burns as the hot ink burns a path in the paper.  But am I really truthful with myself?   Am I living in a world where I am the only real character? 
How is it that I never can do enough?  How is it that I feel this great pain, this great void.  Where are you?  Why aren't you here with me?  Why did you leave me?  I'm lost without you.  Where are you?  You have drifted away from me because I'm selfish?  Selfish???  I thought that was the last thing anyone could ever think I was.  The one who knows me like you thinks I am selfish?

That's All I Got!!!!
I'm Out!!!
44Black