I want to write like I love

Obsessively and with hunger 

With the desperation to please

And a plea to be comforted

I want the ink to bleed

Colors of black and blue

The scratches on the paper

Like etches upon a scarred heart

I want the blank pages to be filled

With the obsessive thoughts of a writer

My unspoken words 

Not to be marveled nor seen

But held within close corners

Sharpened with unease

And poured over 

With reckless abandon 

I want to write like I love

Carelessly and purposefully

Till the ink runs out

And I can write no more