There are marks on my skin
Where my pen ink has been
Crimson ink seeping through
Phrases and words
Listed and unheard
Echoing with scarlet hue.

The pen in my hand cannot understand
The words that scar my heart
It is always writing, continuously fighting
But steadfastly tearing me apart.

Black ink turned red, words of joy and dread
All sorrows and happiness of today
Place your name on my bones
You'll never be alone
And an immortality you'll stay.

Don't mind the crimson ink
Pouring down the sink
Protesting of my need.

I write for poetry
It writes me an eternity
And it is the only ink I bleed.