ink of blood

Shakespeare, Kafka, names unknown, All we drown, all we fly, all we dream alone. I write in blood on pages unseen, Rip them apart, rewrite the obscene. They reach for knives—I take the gun, One shot, two shots, but I'm not done. The words drip slow, like veins torn wide, Paper turns red while I choke on the tide. Teeth ache, tongue burns, Silence begs, but the hunger returns. Ink mixed with tears, bones beg to speak, But the chamber is empty, the pencil is weak. So I write again, a poem to drown, To freeze your breath, to pull you down. To steal your light for just one blink, To feel the fall, to make you sink. Millions of verses, one ending remains, A twisted mind that feeds on pain. Words fade too fast, but I won't yield— Let them bleed forever, let the world be my field. If this is my way to watch it weep, Then I’ll carve my waves and let them creep. I dont have any letters to write, or have any words left to be untied. The world for me so unkind, My words poison for some minds. Let this blood be washed away Forever like there was a way.