The Body of Text

my blood is the ink in which I use to pen my thoughts
it's punctured so deep and is in risk of falling apart
the words never seem to linger, never seep deep within
the canvas of my skin in which I live in

the lines sting at times and they consume my insides
the words burn on my soul but they fade over time
and the pages they flicker like stars in the night
never-staying, ever-moving, but glowing oh so bright

my heart is the tool in which I can write
of despair,
of hope,
of anger,
of life

Reviews

[Shabeeh Haider]

Well said. The heart is merely a tool and the our blood is the ink that writes our hope, our despair our joy and our life.
Keep writing.

[nmpsr14]

Thank you for your kind words. I'm glad you enjoyed it. :)