Nothing Left in Me but a Prayer

 

My pen is my only salvation

I squeeze until the ink’s nerves burst

with enough energy to leave the tip of it

and from there my pen skates like silver blades on ice

melting

because the heat touching is causing such great force

just enough to melt away the cold but just enough solidity for my pen to do it’s thing

and it does it for me because when my legs and arms get weary and I feel that I’ve

run out of options, I can always depend on my pen to heat things up just enough

to ignite some gas for me and that’s what I call

holding on and not giving up

holding on to what and giving up on what?

I don’t know so I imagine hanging on the edges of my notebook and the grip around my pen.

I have nothing left in me but a prayer

Image

by Image by Deanna Wardin @ Tattoo Boogaloo

Tattoo Boogaloo 528 Green St. San Francisco, CA 94133 (415) 391-1053

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