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Ink, Blade and Enemy.

Pen is the blade
wielded here, amoral
in and of itself.

Held in skilled
hand, it may be surgical
or homicidal.

Trust yourself.
Let it bleed.
Never hurts to experiment.

March onward,
fearless. Sight fixed
forward, chin up, chest
out, shoulders

back. Empower
through a pose.
Fake it to make
it, fiction earning
the prefix
non-, conjure
all you are.

Go now where you most
fear to tread,
find your fortune.

Accept your denial,
remember the forgotten.
Swallow all your shadows.

Peer through the eyes
of enemies, feel out
who they really are, maybe
make some shitty poetry

to capture
the state-dependent
insights.

Let ink
be your bridge.

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