Poetry, Uncategorized

Inkwell

I walked out in the yard
And I was tired but happy
My soul has seen weather
It gets so wound up
Life stirs me up
And now I spill out all my color
My fire burns out into the night
I sit on a ragged blanket
In ripped blue jeans
And I drag on a cigarette
And it fumes out into the air
And the stars are closer to my heart
Than anything else
Here, my color is spilt out everywhere
Under a navy night sky

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1 thought on “Inkwell”

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