I have noticed
each day
the ink splatters
staining my fingers.

They leave marks
in such a way
that kiss the paper
and probe the heart.

A stain whose blue
creates a deeper shade
for words to hide
a silent voice.

I long for my ink
to begin to stain yours.

You see the dots
and think of me.
You wash yet they stay
so you think of me.

The stains of my pen
have left you blue.
So you think of me,
and I'll think of you.

I seek darkness
and blood
for balance
I want to breathe in fluids
and
to drown myself
in beauty
so I need shades
for depth
perception
I seek out shadows
distorted versions
of light
without which I am frightened
and blind
to its shapes

I seek pain
in visions
vivid illuminations
of horror
of second hand experiences
to shoot through my system
for dopamine kicks
that allow me to cry
and long
for reality's release

Don't ask
the echo
to shut up.
        You loose
        the right
        when you yell
        that aloud.
No need to bid,
echo to be quiet,
if you just do
what you ask for.
Adore silence
till light dawns.