addicted to the ink,
almost like it runs through my veins.
addicted to the daydream,
the one thing that doesn't wash away with the rain.
fantasizing in the daylight,
and blotted words in the dead of night.
addicted to the wanderlust,
no reality could ever save me from my plight.
the hardest thing is knowing,
a daydream is all it could ever possibly be.
addicted to the bleeding ink,
the only part of me that will ever be free.
YOU ARE READING
Words to My Demons | Poetry ✔️
Poetry❝she was simple, an angel born without wings. yet she was special, an enchanting song her lost soul sings. ❞ A dark and deep poetry collection of every little thing that makes us both unique and insane. ~ Highest ranking in Poetry: #7 ~ 1st Place in...
