spilled

Pages in my journal filled with spilled ink

Teapots and kettles whistle at me for more

-The pressure I feel to say the right thing-

As the whistle grows louder, I write faster

Conveying words as if they were me

Strong and black

Spilled ink is nothing more than a mess

Unless spilled with the intention to heal

And now that I am empty

My audience is full

They whistle no more

Ready to pour out and fill the cup of another

Image

Picture Of The Day 3.22.21

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Pages in my journal filled with spilled ink

Teapots and kettles whistle at me for more

-The pressure I feel to say the right thing-

As the whistle grows louder, I write faster

Conveying words as if they were me

Strong and black

Spilled ink is nothing more than a mess

Unless spilled with the intention to heal

And now that I am empty

My audience is full

They whistle no more

Ready to pour out and fill the cup of another