She has nothing,
But ink pulsing through,
Her fragile veins…

Every drop of blood,
Is her soul,
Disclosing a universe,
Against the empty pages of,
An undying fantasy painted,
In a hunger of raw,
Passion of the unknown…

Beseeching her love is,
Patiently awaiting for her, 
To bleed once more,
As she Lays out,
A map to her bleeding vessel,
With every word she,
Composes across the blank pages,
That lay before her…

But…Her minds tells,
A different tale,
Informing her that,
This desire she longs intensely for,
Will never be fulfilled…

Again…She pricks her veins,
With nib pen’s sharp point,
Drawing blood making,
The ink surface once more,
From her inflicted body…

As she fearlessly awaits,
For the one that will bleed,
With her “Across the Galaxies”…

~ by jbritt