I use the pen to dig in to the paper
To exhume the words
For my
Darkest writes
They are decayed upon the white
Black corrodes the pure
Pungent
Faded
Not as they were before,
They stink of death upon the paper,
As black infests
The write is dark, it feels cold
The ink drips,
,
,
,
,
On white like,,,,,,,,,,,blood
These words only fitting
on my darkest writes
I exhumed the words for my latest terror
The corpses of words,
Shrivelled dry upon the paper.
Aug 16, 2014
Aug 16, 2014 at 3:27 PM UTC
I use the pen to dig in to the paper
To exhume the words
For my
Darkest writes
They are decayed upon the white
Black corrodes the pure
Pungent
Faded
Not as they were before,
They stink of death upon the paper,
As black infests
The write is dark, it feels cold
The ink drips,
,
,
,
,
On white like,,,,,,,,,,,blood
These words only fitting
on my darkest writes
I exhumed the words for my latest terror
The corpses of words,
Shrivelled dry upon the paper.
If people wonder where my darker writes come from
