All I’ve ever known

Was how to bleed in ink

To tear my paper with my pen

And never stop to think


To rip apart my insides

And spill them on my page

Watching them form silent words

Of wisdom, hope, and rage

Author: Catherine Caruso

Writer of words. Lover of dogs.

41 thoughts on “Bleed”

  1. G’day there,
    As a dyed in the wool rhymer, I like this poem one feels the depth of feeling in each word … also would like to thank you for your visit and like on my page

  2. bravo …. this poem is mine …. It has taken a while to discover the artist for
    he was practicing the essay, chiseling the pavement,
    mixing the people of paint, bonding the metals and
    fabrics, and now with vision creating what no other
    could see feel or taste .. that is the purpose this
    poem is mine

  3. I love this. Makes me think of the many times I’ve either scribbled with hatred with pen and paper, or wrote for hope and happiness. Nicely done.

  4. Pingback: Bleed | Jewett's

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