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Aug 19
I am a black ink from a pen
That stained in a crumpled paper,
A dark marked within the infinite—
I am a black ink from a pen
All that is left is mistake and dirt,
My bone cracks,
Hurt curled from within—
The pain slowly kills my writings
But I continue to write still—
Maybe the answers just hiding
Somewhere between the lines.
If only I could have asked him—
Instead, we only fight with knives,
Cutting each others flesh,
Hurting each other until we bleed—
Now guess, his surname is death,
And I can't find places to hide,
So please let me hold your hand,
Let my breath taste like summer
For I am just a black ink
A dark mark
That he forgot and left in the dark—
I'm just a tired writer,
He had all the strenght,
I am nothing like him,
I can't even repent.
I know I was meant to learn
From the mistakes I've made,
But all I do is burn them all
And made a facade words—
I can't change the world,
I couldn't even change his heart,
Just a stupid woman that loved a guy,
Now a black ink, a dark mark.
Written by
WizardsPen  122/F/Elm Street
(122/F/Elm Street)   
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