My thoughts are bleeding injuries, Not blood but its ink that pours. It's ink that flows from my eyes, Spilled on the paper world that I scours. My paper world is stained and scribbled, Inked on every page that you will turn. The paper girl is crumbled and withered, Unwanted thoughts shed ink and then run. The paper world seems to be lamenting, As it hides the darkest secret and my gloom. Lost at the devil's triangle of ink ocean floating, Where the euphoria forgot to keep me a room. ~Inktrovert
Its a story as old as time, a kinship of heart Finding that fated someone, wanting ne'er to part Each moment spent together, is a precious gift When I'm feeling my lowest, my spirits you lift We made a vow, to stick together, come what may I will love you til my dying breath, be it years from now, ..................or even today!