Bleeding Words

I could bleed words that mean nothing in my
Silent corner of a home
—(but not mine)
I could spurt them over a page
Like an arterial wound—
—Black blood on LCD paper.

It's not like I haven't done it before,
But the feeling after is like
The emptiness after vomiting or
The cold after a hug from
Someone I know does not love me.

It would be so much better to
Simply know what is inside me.
I know that some things, though true, take no form,
—(in letters.)
But without an outlet I grow stagnant,
And something in me wants to grow.