black ink

with a sharp
shovel you dig
to find the words
to slip out
from under the
guise of a normal
day. you want
the ink to spill
like blood,
bringing it all
to bear witness
to what you see
and feel, no
matter how true
or false it might
be. the pen is
your sword, your
saviour, your way
in and out of
the black night.