Little page people

Writing happy nightmares

Is a pleasure

Twisting my tongue and fingers through the ink

Spill liquid on the paper and watch it run

Let it get strong calves

And a tank

That can go for hours.

Build towers that never were

And jump from them, see what it’s like

Or hide in the shadow

And live there for a bit.

Sit in the paper,

Write fulfilment,

What you’d imagine it to be like.

Spike thorns through your characters then take them out,

Scribble it out when you regret it

But keep a copy in case you change your mind.

Take a picture of the corpse and make it hard to find.

Let them find the killer,

And when they know it’s you

Take your pen blade, hold them up

And cut them into two.

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