Ink Blot

my mind tries to strategize between writing 

down everything or letting it be forgotten

trying to figure out what exactly I'm looking at

seems like a paper with black ink blotted

I persuade myself that if I keep writing,

there's a possibility I will find the reason

I have a tendency to attach metaphors 

with materials, there has to be a meaning

something that's hidden between 

lines, the cautionary in fine print

I could write my whole life and 

still, I'd only come up with a hint

my mind isn’t present whereas 

my body stands undefeated

it's like I’m searching for the

words to describe the feeling, 

but there’s always more to be 

asked and less to be answered

I miss when I was younger,

when my skeleton was a dancer

although, I wouldn’t move quite 

right and my back would go stiff

I came down with heaviness that 

my strength didn't know how to lift

there’s a sense in me trying to balance 

between hopefulness and hopelessness

it's all a lesson about defeating 

weaknesses to find our purposes

I stand back, indecisive, 

but sure of who I am

the smudges I've been looking at 

are appearing slightly less crammed,

like there's more to the story 

than what meets the eye

I'll let my ink spread onto pages,

these are the words that I live by

- Leah Rae