inked in blood
inked her wrists
with the words of your soul,
capturing time,
until it ran out,
scrubbing
ink and blood,
pooling on the floor
kissing the wounds
left by our love
e.s.
👁 6💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.