trapped words that I cannot
scrape from my mouth
spread like poison.
radiating tendrils
running under skin.
I stab the pen into my arm,
draw out the black bile
coursing my veins
and use it for ink.
pouring my pollution onto the page,
scribbling the bleak and vicious
cogitations
the nefarious abstractions
that dig into the hushed
corners of my soul.
I hope to drain myself-
enough to return colour
to my veins,
bleed red once more;
taste joy and love
on my palette
in place of ash,
and the ruthless regret
that clings to my tongue.
I am fading,
withering like a husk.
I fear I will run out of ink
and find nothing red left
Sep 26, 2024
Sep 26, 2024 at 4:06 PM UTC
trapped words that I cannot
scrape from my mouth
spread like poison.
radiating tendrils
running under skin.
I stab the pen into my arm,
draw out the black bile
coursing my veins
and use it for ink.
pouring my pollution onto the page,
scribbling the bleak and vicious
cogitations
the nefarious abstractions
that dig into the hushed
corners of my soul.
I hope to drain myself-
enough to return colour
to my veins,
bleed red once more;
taste joy and love
on my palette
in place of ash,
and the ruthless regret
that clings to my tongue.
I am fading,
withering like a husk.
I fear I will run out of ink
and find nothing red left
