Posted in Verses

Bleeding Ink

Words fall back from the tip of my tongue

Unformed

Choking me.

Scrambled letters

An ode to the chaotic madness

That are my thoughts.

I need to write, write

Write on

Till I grow lightheaded

With verses spurting out,

Bloody utterances drenching the white sheets

Of sanity

Often draped over the wounded soul

Ever so carefully

So the gaps do not show.

The ink seeps through

And I stand, a blur of red and black,

Naked,

And free.

 

 

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Author:

A wayward thinker hiding behind the facade of necessary courtesies

One thought on “Bleeding Ink

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