Coming from the mouth of hate
A deep green ink tumbling out
With those **** red petals
Having been stained by the blood
Spilling into vile words of suffering
Twisting this way and that
As if alive- slithering into place

I would plunge the dagger
Deeper still into your chest
Turning it and slicing on either side
Until I could reach in and pluck
That beating ***** from the cavity
And hold it in my hand, so tenderly
Just as I always have been with you
And then crush it in between palms
Applying more pressure until
The pain is unbearable and then
Maybe you will have felt
What you've put me through

some comes from pain
its the red paint of blood you paint with
the red ink that flows through you
when you truly make art

the best art can come from pain

What sad sorrow one can bring
As paper is spoiled by the ink
From a pen whose forgotten name is
Loosely engraved on.

What deep despair one may have
As their blood pours gently down the sink.
When a blade goes across the skin to slash,
Only then, does one truly start to think.

@Reading... "Ink!"
As I stop to stare.
I see a title where.
I wonder what it means..
I pause from browsing to read.
I see what ink drops bleed.
I decide to click open and proceed.

I read what ink drops bleed.
The brilliant thoughts. emotions, and seeds.
Allowing my thoughts and emotions to feed.
Drip drops I'm reading..
Where black and white words are leading.
Succeeding to the end.
Cleverly where it all soon ends.
I'm left with a vivid mental picture.
As my feelings were captured.
A door I entered.
Reading gives me clarity.
Exploration, I let my fingertips reply.
I comment, like and love.
The title that caught me up above.

Such a beautiful layout, drops of ink spread all out.
This dear ones is what readings all about.
Ink drizzled inks in drops.
Spreading magic, removing doubts,
Let your fingers show you where there, leave some plops.
Let your fingertips drip drop plops.
Give some love where you are reading.
So more drips and drops will be succeeding.
For the love of ink drops please keep on reading.

SelinaSharday Rose@H.E.R

I started
giving ink
to my tongue
and for some reason
I developed a sleeve tattoo
that spelled courage

But nostalgia still leaves ink
On my palms
And she leaves stains
On my lids
So when I close my eyes
I can only see you
And see you
And see you

And occasionally she
Will drip down my lashes
An arduous descent
Down the path of friendship
And silently
Blot my cheeks
In blackish hues
Of me and you

And I have loved you since December

There's not enough Ink in my pen to write love poems to you
Not enough love I can pour into each note
I'm sorry I'm not enough for you
I wish I was enough for you
Not enough ink for me to keep writing these pretty words for you

Draw a smile on your face
And don't let the ink wash off in the rain