the ink
on my fingertips
is the only
thing that's
keeping me awake
if i chisel
my mind with
words, maybe i'll
past make
when the rot
in my imagination
is spreading
like a disease
It prevents
me from spoiling
into debilitated bliss
the rusted
gears turning
whilst ejecting
the carbon dioxide
the ink
on my fingertips
is the only
thing that's keeping
me alive
YOU ARE READING
Catharsis | ×
Poetry"A robin redbreast in a cage Puts all heaven in a rage..." -William Blake
