i used to write to let out the pain
as ink spilled onto the smooth white surface
so did the excruciating truth
but now it seems
the ink is red
and it spills from the
wound that you left me
with every stroke of the pen
each memory of you and I
comes rushing back
like salt burning flesh
Sep 1, 2015
Sep 1, 2015 at 1:26 AM UTC
i used to write to let out the pain
as ink spilled onto the smooth white surface
so did the excruciating truth
but now it seems
the ink is red
and it spills from the
wound that you left me
with every stroke of the pen
each memory of you and I
comes rushing back
like salt burning flesh
