Spilled Ink
These straight lines
Convey what words cannot.
A sharp relief from the anger, the pain.
Stare at the dark ink flowing
As the lines multiply
Crisscrossing this way and that
in an intricate web of pain.
Press too hard, and the ink runs dry.
Do I dare, do I have the courage?
Darker, thicker lines appear.
My vision wavers, the pen slips up.
No not today; I cannot
There's still ink left for another day.
Copyright © Chisato Kimura | Year Posted 2016
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