Maybe I’m naive.
Maybe I’m ink
and emotion and
too much trust,
too little guarded.
Maybe love isn’t pure,
can’t be, maybe
I’m bleeding
all over this floor.
Maybe I’m just tired.
Maybe I’m lost and
maybe everything
gets diluted, deluded
by reality. Do you really
belive in magic?
Because maybe
I’ve been up all night
arguing with my doubts.
Pen's Ink 