Magazine, website & books written by teens since 1989

Falling Ink

Last night I woke from a nightmare of being shot down,
Like a leaf, I fell from a tree,
But I never touched the ground.
As my eyes drifted open,
I saw an arrow that was shot straight down.
With nothing to protect me but my blankets in a mound,
The arrow shot right through.
Now my mind is dripping words like acid rain falls from the sky.
Each one speaks its meaning in pain singeing my skin.
The gaping wound in my consciousness, leaking thoughts most profound.
Rolling down onto these pages, smearing the ink
Turning my paper hearts into a black ink downpour.
As the wound grows larger, my mind starts to spill pictures onto the floor.
Paintings of memories stain the carpet, as I choke on tears of remorse.
I feel the poison spreading, traveling to my heart.
Forcing its way through my veins,
Reaching my lungs, the air I exhale takes a sickly hue.
My tears stained black by the poison within,
Make their journey to the floor.
Which has been eaten away by the words,
And stained with memories,
Beyond what it can endure.
As the wood gives from the pressure, my body slides through the ground.
Falling through the air, my hair blows above me, slowly turning to drops of black ink.
My limbs grow cold and the air from my lungs turns black,
Turning into falling droplets of ink, drifting through the air.
Now surrounded by white, I have turned black,
Falling through the depths of the world that have never been seen.
What's left of me in the form of black ink, strikes the white surface,
Like a spill of my conscious on a blank page.
Now I'm left on the surface of this page,
Waiting for my mind to drip the few last words..





Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback