Ink

Yeah. The coward’s choreography. The pulse left the picture, the passion went to ash A beautiful mirage that was destined to crash I gotta sever the spine, gotta finalize the grief But staring at your soul turns me back into a thief So I dodge the dialogue, ducking the brutal breath Trading a vocal victory for a silent, sudden death The margin mocks me, laughing at the ink I bleed A coward’s cursive planting a poisonous seed Every comma is a hook catching in the throat! (Catching in the throat) Every syllable a stone sinking the boat! A paragraph of panic, the syntax of a sigh I punctuate the panic, but the letters testify A full stop falling like a guillotine blade The architecture of the coward I have made. The adjectives are arrogant, the verbs begin to freeze I’m drafting an apocalypse pretending it’s a breeze A question mark is curling, a serpent on the page Demanding all the courage that I couldn’t bring to stage The clauses are claustrophobic, tearing at the lung A masterclass of malice from a paralyzed tongue I fold the fatal fraction, a silent guillotine Washing off the blood so my conscience looks clean. Every comma is a hook catching in the throat! (Catching in the throat) Every syllable a stone sinking the boat! A paragraph of panic, the syntax of a sigh I punctuate the panic, but the letters testify A full stop falling like a guillotine blade The architecture of the coward I have made. To face the flesh is fire, so I settle for the frost. A dictionary of damage, calculating what it cost. Send the letter. A single spoken breath could have severed the tie. The architect of silence builds a home in the lie.