Spilling across the paper
From blue,
To red.
This ink is my heart
And I'm pouring it out to you.
My happy,
My sad.
I'm putting it all in your hands,
So if by chance,
And merely chance,
I will get a glimmer of what it's like
To be truly
And absolutely
Cared for.
If I'm lucky
Perhaps I'll receive a piece of hope
From your heart to mine.
I just need something,
Honestly anything,
To keep me going.
To keep me marching along
In a battle that isn't to be won.
Jan 4, 2014
Jan 4, 2014 at 8:47 PM UTC
Spilling across the paper
From blue,
To red.
This ink is my heart
And I'm pouring it out to you.
My happy,
My sad.
I'm putting it all in your hands,
So if by chance,
And merely chance,
I will get a glimmer of what it's like
To be truly
And absolutely
Cared for.
If I'm lucky
Perhaps I'll receive a piece of hope
From your heart to mine.
I just need something,
Honestly anything,
To keep me going.
To keep me marching along
In a battle that isn't to be won.