The pen is my needle
The ink is my rush
I crave its presence
My brain tingles, my checks blush
I need it injected
Any page will do,
The colour never mattered
White,
Yellow,
Green,
Will do, as long as words seen,
I sniff the letters upon paper,
I cant wait till ink dries
Written in the spaces
till all is covered in black
I crave ink
Each moment,
Each day,
I awake each morning,
My mind needs the buzz
My fingers are ideal
Smudged with ink,
That never seems to wash off,
The needle drips it on the page
I can feel the words,
Released from my mind
On to clean paper
My thoughts now rushed,
People see me with
Paper,
&
Pen,
Looked upon with disgust,
I don't care,
I'm addicted to ink,
I can quit if I wanted
*But write I must.