Wonderland

What happens
When you put pen to paper,
But the ink that comes out
Is as red as the blood pouring from the wound
Not yet healed?
Twisted like a knife, 
Not meant to heal,
But tragically romantic somehow. 
A story of a girl
Whose tears have stained more pages 
than most will ever read.
A continuous search to start over.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2017

Poem

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Bocsa Avatar
August 12, 2017 at 6:27 AM
My dear Kate, wonderful and delicate, you find a room-mate. Imagine I am your pencil, ready to find your lovely poetry. You do not need a golden pen.
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