Taking Fate’s Hand Essay, Research Paper

Angry red welts mar the paper

Not unlike those that cover my body

And those that scar my mind

I am my own victim

The pen strokes bring me more pain

Than a blade ever could

I suppose the pen truly is

Mightier than the sword

I lose myself in the words

Pouring mind, heart, and spirit

Into the words, over the page

Open for scrutinization

Wet blotches blur the writing now

As I draw my fate’s instrument from it’s drawer

A slash at the wrists, red consumes the page

My ink becomes my blood