Random Writing

I had an inkling that this
wouldn't last. So I inked
on blank pages the way we
laughed. I sketched
words that spoke meaning
until one day, they stopped.

I couldn't write right
and despite all the things spoken
nothing was actually said. Despite
being broken, I never bled.
The life is in the blood,
but you've drained me. I
remain me, but in
a diminished form.