Spilled Ink

Spilled Ink

oilshotsonrobots

Reads 56
Votes 15
Parts 6

Ongoing<5 mins

Last published Sun, Jul 24, 2016

depression lonely love personal poetry

As you look to find your way in life where do you look to? Do you find your healing in the grass, the sand, or do you find it in the cold snow at winters beginning? Where's your solace come from, and has it grown from your fears? What is love? What is heartbreak? What do you do when all you can do to ease your pain is spill words from your brain and pray it helps someone else?

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The Words I Never Said // A Collection of Essays

Dear Friend, I have so much to tell you. I feel the words tickling the insides of my lungs, the symbols pile up, I sneeze, and they flock into a clumsy-looking snow sculpture (sorry for the unsettling image). I then begin to introduce those words to the world, to you, syllable by syllable. Like little children, they explore the emptiness of paper, and soon all the universal truths blur as I search for explanations of time and space. Where are we? What are we doing? Using emotions as my ink I tried putting into words the unspeakable thoughts that torment my mind until written. Most of these writings were born from loneliness. You don't have to read them, my Friend, but if perhaps you feel just as tormented... these letters are here, waiting to be seen. Love, - Your Friend

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