Tag Archives: soul

Stain

Stain

my soul is stained on the pen
that wrote this verse
jammed by a substance
that prevents me from song
but when will song
from me
prevent that?
I am not a cat in a hat
or a violet that’s blue
I am feeling rivulets of sound
that crash up against my insides
from the outside
that paint my ears red
like air does to blood
that paint my eyes red
when I shift my head to catch a glimpse
of the sweetness clouds make
I’m open to concave, reflecting,
digesting parts of time
whose rhythm does not acknowledge
that of the tick-tock
My words flood my brain
like my blood
like the rain
no breaths to complement the pulse they make
unless they breathe when they evaporate
like cotton candy which is never sweet
unless first you eat
the air around it
If I poured the ink from this pen on my tongue
could I tell if my words were sweet?

Stain