They say if you write someone a poem that they can never die,
That ink can write a story as thick as blood flows,
Can leave stains you cant wash off,
From blood I learned about gravity the hard way.
Because poetry like blood, once you let everything spill out of you,you cant take it back
But see now
The ink on my hands from the pen I started writing with is looking like blood
I’m being sorry for writing about you,
I’m sorry for letting the ink spill into your name-
A poem I couldn’t finish.
Because the paper doesn’t want your name on it,
And my hands don’t want to be writing it-
Because you’ve
Hit me harder than any sticks and stones could ever break me-
You’ve
Put up smoke screens in front of the stars enough times for me to stop believing they are there
Because there would be no light till I made you-
My sunshine.
The center
Of my solar system.
Just so that you,
Can have a good view
To watch
The heartbreak…
Watch it smash it into thousand of pieces
And then watch me step on everything I thought I’d swept away,
Or at least
Under the rug...
You
Like to read through my pages
Then leave the book open,
Knowing it’s easier to get damaged that way.
You are the reason my heart is the size of a fist
That it needs to keep fighting.
So YOU
Found a different way to write your poem,
Turned my skin
Into paper,
Pen into a knife,
You
Turned my blood into ink.
You engraved in me… a world of scars writing-
Poetry…
Because once you let everything spill out of you
It becomes real
But if poetry is all you have…
Then I guess don’t leave the pen open to dry up.