If you were…spilled ink
Poetry: An inky love story
If you were spilled ink
you’d stain my notebook
with the words i’d think
i would read them all
and my heart might sink
at the broken pieces
the words manage to link
If you were spilled ink
you’d walk right off the page
and seep straight back inside my veins
simmering inside
there you’d remain
til i erupted, cried
then spilled you again
If you were spilled ink
i’d read about your sad girls and bad girls
wild nights and wild boys
into the night we’d boldly go
down the rabbit hole then over the rainbow
the misadventures — the lost and found
the untamed — the silence — the deafening sounds
the happy ending in a book that you wrote
the tiger’s who smoked
the unfunny joke
If you were spilled ink
i’d fall for you over and over
and another again
hypnotised by the magic
you spill from your pen
If you were spilled ink
my fingers would be tattooed with each word i read
i’d put my own pen to paper and let it bleed
our words would then bleed into each other
our spilled thoughts evolving
as they write and discover
