Red Ink

It is a bit more abstract than usual. Made this for my creative writing class, last semester.

The light and dewy drapes of winter fall

A flurry of wet flakes canvas the ground

Like my mind and the thoughts I can't recall

I am held hostage, a prisoner, bound.

Constricted to the confines of this page

Ink blots the paper as I move in haste

Within the boundary of my margin cage

The page wrinkled with the marks I erased.

My pen dispenses sweat and blood that stains

This sheet tortures me with its empty state

Blood is madness that courses through my veins

A blood stained paper is what I create.

Yet with fevered breath I stay with this pen

Awaiting this delirium again.

Reviews

[Quinn W]

I really enjoyed reading this! One of my favorites! Really loved the word choice.

[Living_Memories]

Thanks, Quinn! Glad you enjoyed it.