ink.

A Poem by suuyuwriteyunu

to put it simply, I love ink. Very much. 15.2.2025

ink.

If there’s anything in the world I could ask god for it would be ink.

Its dark colour and strong, unique scent is one I’ve grown to yearn for,

And I know it’s only a matter of time before I start thinking,

Before I start imagining,

And creating.

To dip my fingers into the dark liquid and spread it all over the wall,

Or to dip the tip of a pen in and start scribbling down peculiar symbols that we call words on this sheet of paper, presumably made from trees?

I let its smoothness lift me away above the clouds, while its strong scent anchors me to reality.

I am well aware that it is half past twelve and I’m only a little girl writing silly little sentences into her notebook, but it all had to start somewhere.

And for me it was the ink.

The countless hours I spent holding my pen, writing fiercely with it until my wrist hurt and felt like fire.

The many times I spent fiddling with it, hitting it on the rim of my table, scared the ink would be used up or worse�"dried out.

And that’s the thing about ink.

If it isn’t used often enough or regularly, it slowly creeps away from you, disappearing along with the stories in your head,

The ones that will now for certain never be told.

Dried out. Dead.

It’d leave behind a heavy darkness in your heart, and though it might seem like only a temporary stain that can be removed from the bottles like the flakes of a croissant, it’d stick with you forever.

The feeling of lost potential.

It will leave the jar empty, and maybe the same goes for you, too.

I promised myself I’d keep my ink running. It doesn’t matter if it spills all over my hands. It doesn’t matter if I use it for silly purposes like drawing on my face or painting my cupboards one random Wednesday.

Because if there’s anything in the world I could ask god for it would be ink.

Its dark colour and strong, unique scent is one I’ve grown to yearn for,

And I know it’s only a matter of time before I start thinking,

Before I start imagining,

And creating,

All over again.