Ink

Underneath my skin is smudged with ink

From all the words I've yet to think

And all the ones I have not said

That have gone dancing in my head

Stories etched along my bones

Stay with me wherever I may roam

And in whispers soft and sweet

"Look here!" "Write me!" They entreat

And characters who become like friends

Accompany me through the long days' end

And for attention they all clamor

Louder than a bell struck with hammer

Underneath my skin is smudged with ink

For all the words I've yet to think

And all the ones I have not said

That have gone dancing in my head