Poetic Flair

Am I what?

Here I am cutting myself again
because there's a feeling I can't tame
so I let myself profusely bleed,
something should be out from inside of me;
a letter, a word, a phrase, a sentence,
they pleading me to give them existence
now, I'm back staining the pages
and let my ideas be freed from their cage
I will write and write and write
with my pen as a gun, I will fight
this is who I am, creator of prose and poetry
even when I'll be out of breathe
do not expect me to put a dot,
I will still pull the trigger to take a shot.