the dust dances too

i write, therefore i am.

ink drips from my fingers,

ink flows through my veins.

these tiny teardrops

of poems and stories,

pouring from the aqueducts

of my brain.

(Source: thedustdancestoo)

Posted 3 months ago with 147 notes
Tags: poetry  spilled ink  words  
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    i could not have said it any better
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