Spilled Ink

withkaleidascopeeyes:

Fill my heart, with endless talk
Of pedals turned, and engines stopped
Fueling foils, for some oil
Pop this boil, through turmoil
Racing time, against the clock
I see my turn, with lack of shock
Sending signals, into blue
What comes out, is up to you
In due rhyme, all will be fine
What comes to time, is back in mind
Spitting fires, threw burnt tires
Putting liars, through the mires
Enter leaving, exit sneezing    
Just to find, their faucet’s leaking
Looking back for heart attack
We’ll see just what, our voices lack
We’ll see our just! what voices lack?
For heart attack, looking back
Just to leak, their faucet’s finding   
Interweaving, exit sneezing
Putting fires, through the mires 
Spitting liars, threw burnt tires  
What comes to rhyme, is back in time  
In due mind, all will be fine
What comes out, is into blue
Sending signals, back to you
I see my turn, against the clock 
Placing time, with lack of shock
Pop turmoil, through this boil
Fueling oil, is the foil
Of pedals learned, and endless talked
Fill my heart, and engines stop
Bless you 

inkejaculate:

When there is no longer

anymore paper

I will not cry for the ink.

When the tear

                      has departed

                      and the well has ignited

                      into its own sandy death

I will not

              look.

When my eyes - removed by the stretching masks,

                         fill no place inside my head

                         I will not bleed.

And when the

                     blood

                              flows free from dissected veins

                              my mind will not think on it.

The wet ochre

                      flow will permeate the

                      unlimited space and will

                      be carried by the wind - to create the

                                                            lost poetry

                                                            that is no longer

                                                            written on paper.

And the mind

                     will be free.

butterflyheartbeats:

I’m a force to be reckoned with

you don’t have to believe me

you don’t have to know

or see

for me to win the fight for life

honest questions only empower

I am the living proof.

Go Ahead.

Shake me to the core

Grasp me by the vocal cords

I only get stronger

I only get louder

and what you try and hide

with only eat you inside

and if you think

you can change who I am

by painting me “pretty”

or

by beating me faceless

think again

I am still here

and I am alive

and well. 

No grave can hold me long.