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All the Ink Ran Out While I Was Living
I continued writing poems, they were among the things I never gave up. Another was of course drawing portraits with ink pens as well as pencils. Portraits changed over time, becoming more complex but with simpler lines. It was all so simple to me, but I know other eyes looking at them wouldn't know what was simple and what wasn't. I kept discovering new words, kept writing until my fingers were covered in blue and black ink. I never washed my hands, I wanted to leave a trace of the past. I wanted my hands to leave simple stains when I applied them to my face. Of course, those who saw me would first laugh and then ignore me, just as I wanted.

November, 2023

by Demon Ego