My ink blotches like tears from my eyes
They are clear but my ink is dye
I cannot feel what I am succumbed to feel
Because I am raging
I am raging because I am not who I want to be
I say I want to be this ——-
I write it over and over again
Till the tides,till the tides go
Till the lake where I hold my sorrows and grief
Flood the banks.The estuaries.The shores.

I am transfixed in the moment.
I am in a life I hope is not a fantasy
I fear that I am in one’s body of triumph
But in the deep heart’s core, I am still fighting the trials.
I have no words left.I have more letters and letters-
Which might form the words I seek
I need to speak with who my heart cherishes the most
But I cannot.
So my ink blotches like tears
But this time,it’s red.


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