With the ink from my passport
Bleeding like an arterial wound
Down my fingers and wrists,
I sat in that airplane terminal,
And let it stain my skin,
Drip to puddle on the floor.
I told my family
I was off "to seek a Great Perhaps."
In stark reality,
I was off to find you.
Jun 23, 2014
Jun 23, 2014 at 12:09 AM UTC
With the ink from my passport
Bleeding like an arterial wound
Down my fingers and wrists,
I sat in that airplane terminal,
And let it stain my skin,
Drip to puddle on the floor.
I told my family
I was off "to seek a Great Perhaps."
In stark reality,
I was off to find you.
