Ink bleeds out onto the paper

The room is sticky hot

I’ve got a pit down in my stomach

It’s tied up all in knots

Years went sliding through my fingers

Lines look deeper in my skin

Age is gaining some momentum

Turns out that death is what I win

So my pen is extrication

I write my words out loud to God

It’s my one way first class ticket

After I break free of this facade

Ink bleeds on past the paper

Forming pools upon the floor

I’d bet a dollar no one’s listening

Except the ghosts outside my door

That have vanquished the living sun

And want to linger all day

Whilst I bleed out my heart benumb

Penning every empty cliché

That has ever been sung by a drunk

Without the will to moderate

to get off a bar stool and debunk

All those lies they indoctrinated