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#inkheart
It was like being too big Wishing you could disappear Inside the ever-growing Crowd of people As their eyes wander onto yours While you try to ebb away In the corner But much too small Inside this body Like it could not contain All your bones and muscles Like your skin Needed to be stretched out In order to hold it all It was an awkward in between Of being too big But also too small Of being too much But not enough Like being nothing at all And everything at once
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Dec 4, 2018
Dec 4, 2018 at 12:42 AM UTC
All Of It
The creature trickles To your mouth And pools around your lips He drapes your shoulders, Wraps your arms, And licks your fingertips The monster pouring Down your spine Demands your every breath Cascading through Your velvet soul Hungry and obsessed His golden hair And amber fangs Bronze your milky tones He slides his teeth Down to your knees And craves your fleshy bones He soaks your skin, And steeps your lungs In black and smoky fumes His appetite A savoring light Until you were consumed
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Dec 4, 2018
Dec 4, 2018 at 12:37 AM UTC
The Creature
She often said ‘I love you’ But not for statement of a fact She just liked the way it sounded To hear someone say it back
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Dec 4, 2018
Dec 4, 2018 at 12:34 AM UTC
Untitled
“Oh God, You're a poet And I, I was Your blank page, Rather the blank page of a poet, Than the blank page of man Rather the blank page of someone who already envisioned me as a masterpiece, Than the blank page of man Yes, even before He poured out His ink heart on me, He saw me, with all the hidden words that were scribbled across me All the fears, hopes, dreams and wishes inked so wildly Oh man, I was His pièce de résistance Last night I was staring at this blank page, But little did I know that it was staring at me, Waiting for me to turn it into a written work of art And just then I realized, I was staring at my reflection This revelation brought clarity to every blank page on Earth Oh God, we are Your work of art” - Demi.M Potts
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Jun 30, 2018
Jun 30, 2018 at 5:18 AM UTC
The Beginning of Endless Writing
Shackled hands and bowed heads, Screams of those who slowly bled. In the middle, laughing in cold demise, Fuelled by all those howling cries, Stood a man with heart black as ink, Pain and sorrow made his rink. A little girl, with a golden smile. Her father was her eternal mile. Love of a mother, stolen by ink, Tears flew from every blink. Stolen away was her father too, Truly hidden in the blue. An oath of revenge, sliced the night. In search of ink went, her eyes bright. The pen of life replaced by a sword, In front the inkheart known to hoard. Slice, the sword cut through his heart, And charred black ink stained the dart. No one with an ink black soul, Can live for long in galore. Slowly Karma takes its place, And no human can create a brace.
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Jan 5, 2015
Jan 5, 2015 at 9:32 AM UTC
Ink heart