The Ink is Alive

spilled inkIt spills from my pen
It spills from my mind
And it’s alive

These words have a heartbeat
And it’s bleeding
I can taste these words in my mouth
As the ink drips from my hand

They stick in my throat
So I write them down
Choking on adjectives
And vomiting verbs

With a life of their own
They crawl
They breathe life into a dead relationship
And I’m left to mourn alone

Ink stained hands
Out dammed spot!
My hands are never clean
These words are still hot

~ Moxie McMurder

 

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