I’m writing pain, with lead on paper
The words come out with no regrets.
I’m piercing skin with ink of amber
So none will see the scars.
The lines I follow, hand on shoulder,
To understand the cravings of my thought.
I draw a man,
A woman on my body.
The shape I’m breaking, thoughts and movement,
And patch them up again with ink.
To bleed once more, with
Pleasure. Now no one sees
The scar, that’s underneath.