Crimson Ink

When overcast is the soul,
    and you can’t leave the bed
You can start to feel whole,
    by adding the color red.

Grab your most trusty quill,
    be it sharp, long, and clean.
Hold your pallid canvas still,
    from art’s edge will it lean.

As the flesh does not want
    to hold your expression.
You must use a nice font
    to display your message.  

A few lines will do the trick.
    Watch your worries clear!
A few rows should nicely fit
    on your chest, limbs or rear!

You will love the burn,
    as steel tears your skin
And embrace the warm,
    as the scars heal thin

The mind may recoil from the sight,
    for running ink can be odious
So wrap in dark tarps, not light
    and your work won’t be obvious

They say art sticks with you 
    till the end of your days.
In this case it's quite true,
    though in unexpected ways!

Art can may you quite happy,
    and move the gray clouds along
But the void is always hungry,
    And comes back before long.

As a note, I do not suggest anyone take it upon themselves to self mutilate. Reach out and find help if you are at a place in life where self mutilation seems like a good idea.

https://www.crisistextline.org/selfharm/

Feedback given: https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/8yh8in/no_one_knows_what_the_hell_theyre_doing_anyway/e2bctyu/

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/8zbfnq/aspire/e2hfksh/