at times i feel as empty and
blank
as the pages beneath my
pretty new pen.
the crisp paper begs for
just a peck from its
ballpoint lips,
a taste of ink scrawled thoughtfully into
truth.
i want to dream dreams of
travel
coffeeshops and open mic
meeting strangers
falling in love
dreams held behind the
cap of my pen and
out of reach by learned habits of
paying rent
independence and
wishes that never came true.
a wish to know how to swim will never
come true if you don’t
jump in.
#poetry #spilled ink
