Evening Poems: Blue Ink, Red Eyes

Washing washing 

All the ink  

Scrubbing scrubbing  

A porcelain sink 

Rinsing rinsing  

Dont stop and think 

Wash away 

All your fears 

Did you hear that? 

Footsteps near. 

Falling, falling, 

Through a crack you peer 

Writing, writing 

Your confession down, 

Jotting everything  

With a frown. 

In words and ink 

You do drown. 

But Looking down 

Blue is red. 

Onto the carpet 

They all bled. 

Spatters on 

The wall and bed.  

All you have done 

The blood that was shed.  

You return to 

Rinsing the sink 

No longer can you tell yourself  

That it is ink. 

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