You wash your heart with evening rain
as waves of drowsiness hold out
paper boats made of written dreams
that search endlessly for a lighthouse
to guide them home to you

you call me a coward
for confessing my heart
through a piece of paper
rather than with my lips
perhaps because
ink dries much faster
than these tears do
acetone can disguise the truth
at the tip of my ballpoint pen
and paper may be shredded
for these feelings to not exist

To start your mornings with
blood on your hands
smearing across pages
is
incriminating
and inspiring
And you must know
if you were to slice open
my veins would also
spill black fountain ink
If you were to sever my tongue
my hands would speak
for me
Go ahead and gouge my eyes
I can still see
And when I die I desire
to be cut as a cadaver
All the words visible
under paper-white skin
so they will know, too.
I do not aspire to be a skeleton
with brittle bones
I want blood
to pour with every pinprick
of a pilot pen pressed
on a page
But blood makes people squirm
Blood makes people gag
so I intend to
leave this world
with a crime scene behind me.
Let them shake and shudder
for they know not
the life they’ve lost
They live in fear of papercuts
and I carve myself open
again and again
And I will continue to
until I bleed out
and my ink dries up
If it sounds violent it’s
because it has to be
The world could use a
few more bloodstains
Makes it more uncomfortable
Makes it more interesting.

i opened your file
and what i saw
was diferent than what i expected;

i saw that you were
sad, pained,
angry, confused;

i turned the page.
you were suffering,
afraid, and alone;

i looked at your photo,
it was diferent than the you i knew,
you looked terified and sad;

i printed a new sheet of paper.
it said that i would be your friend.
that i would be your friend no matter what;

i fastened the new page in the folder
cautiosly, caringly,
with a paperclip.

ink and paper
it is my most comfortable expression
words flow onto paper with ease
as water from a glass that is overfilled
but, place the same words in the mouth
and their flow is interrupted
as if they are jailed by teeth
to write is to release
there is freedom in it