Blood, Ink, and Tears
i had always thought that
you were my muse. but, then
i thought that maybe i was
wrong. you see, when i was
with the others before you,
visions of color and snippets
of prose dance through my mind.
but with you, there was nothing.
just sweet, comfortable numbness.
yet, when i was no longer by your
side, the words came flowing from
my pen like a fountain. it was
during those moments with ink
stained, trembling fingertips
that i realize you were my muse
all along. it just took a little
blood, ink, and tears to bring
myself to such a conclusion.