Ink and Blood

Write as if your life depends on it.

There is a gravity to sadness,
a slick weight that drags me
down into a rusted well,
walls wet with old despair.
Anxiety, like spiders,
hides in the dark.
I claw at the edges,
my nails breaking,
fingers smeared with darkness
and blood.

I jump.
I fall.
The ladder’s missing three rungs.

Even the echo forgets me.
Shadows curl around my ankles,
whispering, laughing,
like old friends turned enemies.

I put one foot in front of the other,
fingers raw,
knees scraped,
breath ragged
as smoke
in a Neighborhood Tavern.

Hope drips in
through cracks
in the walls,
thin light
like whiskey
in a chipped glass,
long-lost,
bitter,
warming my chest.

I rise.
I’m lifted.
I move on.

Sanctuary waits,
an ink pen glows
in the candlelight,
and I take it,
put it to the paper,
and it all resides
deep in my chest.

Author's Note

Thank you to everyone who reads, listens, and keeps showing up here. The support matters more than you probably know.

I just dropped a brand-new long-form poetry reading on my YouTube channel raw, unfiltered, and straight from the same place these poems come from.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?vJD_4EDxtGWU

If the work resonates, my books are available on Amazon.
Appreciate you all.
Thomas W. Case

Reviews

[BuzzyB]

We fall and we rise. As painful the falling, as blissful the rising. Thomas, the imagery you've used to describe the ups and downs is very stunning here. I especially loved the spiders of anxiety. They run all over us, sometimes. The conclusion took me to a place within me full of a golden warmth. Yes, write as is your life depends on it...It's all we really have.

[Thomas W Case]

Much appreciated.

[Michael Sun Bear]

As one who suffers from depression and anxiety I found your words so very true. I was particularly struck by:
I jump.
I fall.
The ladder’s missing three rungs.
Sometimes it feels impossible to escape.
But yes, we can write as if our lives depend on it. They very well may.

[Thomas W Case]

So true, Thanks, my friend.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

"Even the echo forgets me" That is a very haunting line speaking to hopelessness.
From deep in our chest, the words come.
j.

[Thomas W Case]

Thank you.

[Betty Hermelee]

Hello Thomas
This piece shows us so much pain and sorrow; your words are raw and honest, strong and begging...."shadows cut around my ankles"....you could be in a dungeon..without breath.."there is a gravity to sadness"...yet near the end there is hope..you see candlelight and and an ink pen..and you create....
very powerful Thomas and an excellent piece. Bravo!!
Warmly, B

[Thomas W Case]

Thank you, Betty.

[John the Baptist]

"Breath ragged/as smoke/ in a neighborhood tavern." This is one of the great similes and images in this somber recollection of rising from a grim past. It is not a tale of despair, however. The last verse announces that the speaker is ever moving upward on the wings of his writing. The "rusted well" is now a thing of the past. Well done.

[Thomas W Case]

Thank you. Much appreciated.

[Ken Simm.]

This is affecting Thomas. I understand every solid word of it.

[Thomas W Case]

Thanks. Much appreciated.

[Rosie C]

This is quite the empowering piece.

Some strong imagery and excellent choice of words.

Heart-warming and surprisingly different to your other poems.

Captivating, clever and very well written.

[Thomas W Case]

Thank you. I appreciate it.

[red93]

Great Work Thomas - what a lift the act of Writing it all down can give us, even in the darkest of times. Exceptional ✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

[Thomas W Case]

Thanks, my friend.

[Buddhistboy73]

Ink and Blood.....
This is a great portrayal of the human condition and how we can struggle in life...

Kinda dark and raw...but then ultimately a hopeful poem....

I liked the final stanza...

I rise.
I’m lifted.
I move on.

Sanctuary waits,
an ink pen glows
in the candlelight,

BB73

[Thomas W Case]

Thank you. I appreciate it.

[Soren]

This one is gritty and its fall is dark. There is a sense of falling and flailing breaking one's nails and scuffing one's knees and elbows against rock, of mud and slime bitten by bugs and having to clear cobwebs from one's face to extract oneself. Hard hitting. Loved it

[Thomas W Case]

Thank you, my friend.

[Soren]

Most welcome Thomas