Anti-ink
Anti-ink poem stories
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blastimus
blastimus but they since rose, and won the day.
Autoplay OFF   •   a month ago
Reading is my favorite hiding spot.

Anti-ink

Between rows, read we can countless hours of tears, rivers of thrown away dreams, ideas left to crows.

Reading cures old aches, opens new wounds for stories we never lived, forms empathy for those we never believed, fills all our idle breaks.

Pretending to deserve such rich experiences, we dine on poems, fulfilling desires for what never will exist, written by melancholic poets, that live as us in the thick, inescapable mist.

In beings of ink and paper we project when they are all that's left of the brilliant world we learned to reject when the land of innocence we left.

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