Don't my words look good on paper,
Dripping from the warmth of conviction
Trailing honestly leading you along.
Spreading like ink blots doctors use
To show how sinisterly I am wrong.
Keep growing, smearing onto your hands
At long last, you look back at a page
Coming to see, it's only ink.
The story disappears within
Like a cave, not visible how far it goes,
How far it goes and how deep you're in.

If it's all the same, in darkness,
No one notices how far they drop.
A year can pass in seconds
Losing a second of eternity without the clocks.
Catching yourself from spinning, dizzy,
When the ride abruptly stops.
You can never get back on,
The entrance looks all boarded up,
The lights all shut off.

But don't I look good on paper,
Illegible scrawling no one read.
Before the ink took over,
They'll wonder what it said.