The unread misery of a poet

I bleed my pens ink I stab my paper until I wound it with my pens I break my diary's back I torture my art my writing kills me with all emotions I let my grief , despair and regrets all at once while a giant rock moves inside my throat my breath buried 6 feet under my eyes stabbed with hopelessness and deject I bleed tears I torture myself only for you to be deprived of the pain If only we you loved me enough You would see how I torture myself I would sell myself if only you knew how your hands are stained with our blood the red of love and suffering the blue of despair the blue of my pens ink the secret I have to carry the one you are free from I created a world for you from blood sweat tears words and ink only for you to never truly know of it let alone live in it how is it fair you get to live freely while I suffer in the world I created for you