Email Poem

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Personal Note:

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Poem

My quill bleeds out thick, black blood
Staining the papyrus 
ripped beneath my light pressure
of cold, heavy emotions

The stick of the ink scorched on my skin
Offers me liberating relief
Put me back down, it whispers
it whispers, so sweet

But it's chained to my hand
it will never see rest 
Crying, sobbing
rivers of soft regret

Relief is unseen anger
wanting sleep, wanting freedom
Alarming, small voice
in my head, seek help, please 
Stop this mourning

Trapped inside its shallow ink heart
is the knowledge, the fear, I am addicted
It's far too late
knowing, not wanting to believe 
That I'm gone, I've left, through the old, worn gate...

Now I'm trapped in this field 
of crying, sleepy daisies
This meadow of false hope
A tired, scary wasteland
of cruel, twisted jokes


And I won't lie
I desperately want out
but I can't cry, can't stop the flow
My pen is now broken
and so is my newfound outcry of poor, sad emotion.

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