Running smoothly at a glance
with moments of non existence,
does it befoul all things touched
or create something beautiful?
You can never get rid of it, and never destroy it
for what’s said is said, and done is done.
The ink flows and the words pour
like tears to the page.
These words wield wars,
these lines link love.
This ink is my life.
Turn the page and I will write some more,
take away the pen and I will be no more.
So close the book, open the wounds
and press on hard.
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