The making of a monster

I scream behind my closed door, but they can't hear me.

The words don't ever actually escape my lips, because I'm afraid of what I might say.

My mind is the one screaming, it just wants to be free.

I don't know how much longer it can last, it's screaming for a release.

its afraid of what I'm becoming, and it's afraid I won't be able to come back.

it screams for me to stop the fire from touching my skin, and stop the razor on my wrist.

it screams for me to smile, to hear me laugh.

but that's impossible, monsters don't smile.

monsters can't smile.