Black Ink

March 26, 2016

Our ten years of billion litres of ink and shifting mind are packed in one convenient box of books
Wondering if someone else shed tears for the commemoration, I caress the clean cover and wait for a reply
But not even one returns
Pitying oneself for the ignorant of this dimension, I stare blankly at shells wavering with soulless thought
It’s in the thin layers of watercolors that I find a place I belong
Teal eyes, green hair, painted skin
It’s in the clicking black blood that I hide myself within

Music ♪ CoMa – I Monster


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