It was not safe
So carefully laid out
Placed in a pattern
So neatly arranged
And I ruined it
I remember the flow
The way it seeped onto
The white parchment
Dying, staining it
A deep ruby shade of
re-
Black
A deep shade of Black
It shimmered
And seemed to dance when
Reflected by my
Dim lamp
And I was smiling
But the pain of my words
It was what forced me to
Destroy them
My organised statement
Simple, to the point, and
Something I wished to take back
So I did
I took all it back
And because of this my hand
Is soaked in
blo-
Ink
My hand is soaked in ink
And I regret
Nothing
Nov 5, 2019
Nov 5, 2019 at 4:15 PM UTC
It was not safe
So carefully laid out
Placed in a pattern
So neatly arranged
And I ruined it
I remember the flow
The way it seeped onto
The white parchment
Dying, staining it
A deep ruby shade of
re-
Black
A deep shade of Black
It shimmered
And seemed to dance when
Reflected by my
Dim lamp
And I was smiling
But the pain of my words
It was what forced me to
Destroy them
My organised statement
Simple, to the point, and
Something I wished to take back
So I did
I took all it back
And because of this my hand
Is soaked in
blo-
Ink
My hand is soaked in ink
And I regret
Nothing