Not a Wind-Up Machine

I am not a wind-up machine
So don't tell me what to write

Don't ever think I write because the pen
Is choked with too much ink and heavy to lift

Don't ever think I write for small wishes
And idle dreams of black covered over in white

Don't ever think your pain is worth less
Or that I view mine as a gift

Don't ever tell me what to write
On gray days with snow and empty seats

I do not write for backslapping,
Cocksucking validation of my own self

Don't ever think you can pin me down by my words
Or make promises that history always repeats

I am not a wind-up machine for kids
And I've never written for the benefit of someone else

My words are for me alone and you can only share
But if you ever look to die onstage

Don't ever think it's my goal to join you
Because with these words, I am often saved