Transfer

I jailed my inner shadow
inside my pen.
That dark beast howls
as I make him bleed.
I click my pen
and cut him,
he pours from the slices,
click, click, cut, cut,
I am mad. I am mad.
I got my fingertips stained with ink.
I love this murder weapon.
Now, he rises from these pages
and crawls inside your head.
Treat him well.
He deserves a home.
Maybe you can be his new cage.