Dreamdark
Ink flows as the veins of a poem
Running in alphabetical scrawl
Pulsing with lyrical force
Drip, drip
Like blood from knife
Falls ink from pen
Black in place of crimson
Brain falls depleted instead of body
And my pen is my razor blade
Can taste the metal on my tongue
Dream dark children, dark
Like the gathering pool of ink
Like pupils dilated with fear
Heavy breathing
Cheeks flushed with anything but the blush of love
Ahhhh.
The taste of adrenaline.
Fermenting, drowning, becoming divine in that pool of ink
Drip, drip, children
Dream dark.
Maddie S.