Ink to Ashes

Ink flows from my mind
I let it dry than burn it
to ashes,
mixing the ash with
lost thoughts,
my pen glides again
reconnecting
those once abandoned
feelings

In the stream of smoke
he rises,
there in my memory
where I need him

Except for the outline
my heart was bare,
disfigured but
beautiful,
wanting what could
have been

The smell of dripping
ink heats me
just as his intoxicating
touch did long ago

Over time my wounds
will heal,
becoming scars that
soon will fade,
like the ink I use to
scribe my burning
reality