Blood Ink

Years of apathy sigh from her mouth
Her limbs are tired and sore from boredom
She wishes to be free if only she knew what free was
The hinges in her mind creak as a door opens

In walks the “someone” she doesn’t want to see
She feels fear prickle at her skin involuntarily
Everything “someone” represents is her opposite
“Someone” she cannot connect with, cannot understand

She has strived for “someone” for years and years
To reach that level and know finally what she was made for
“Someone” keeps telling her what she could be, should be
But she fears what “someone” knows because shouldn’t she know it too

So her left hand grips at “someone’s” coat sleeve tightly
While her right hand pushes “someone” away with the same force
She is stuck as though dancing, turning from side to side
She merely hopes that one day she may stand still and strong

She picks up the pen, the ink flowing like blood through her veins
And attaches paper to the tip, her only earthly connection
And while the world spins and rocks violently around her
She finds the centre of all things right running within her

Blood Ink

Flic Manning

St Kilda, Australia

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