Ink runs to somewhere
Drips from my tongue
Spills on to someone
Who have I become?
Ink bleeds from somewhere
Cold red or warmer black
Be careful before your words
Stab through your own back.
Ink blots out emotions
Black fog, you cannot see
Do you write what you feel
Or things you say to believe?
Ink flows, like black rain
My cloud has not gone dry
My thoughts spill a storm
Until I run out of time.
YOU ARE READING
Spill My Thoughts
ŞiirRandom musings, observations, and questions in mostly a poetic form.
