My Ink Dance

Discovering Extraordinary Grace in an Ordinary Life

Bleeding Dreams


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photo credit:

When the words won’t come

And my hands stand still.

I wonder if I’ll ever make it

Or what that even means.


Does my life revolve around my dreams

Or my dreams around my life.

They can be my sun or my stars

but neither one seems right.


My dreams can’t just be for chasing

My legs are burning still.

My feet nailed to the ground

The hammer in my own hand.


My heart bleeds crimson on my sleeve

And drips down my arm.

People can’t handle the sight

So they toss a bandage before they walk away.


What if my dreams are crimson

And they aren’t easy to watch.

They pump out without permission

Leaving me empty and alone.

About Becky Hastings

I am emotional and logical. I am strong and dependent. I am a juxtaposition of head and heart exploring it all through writing. And in all my mixed-up ways I am loved. I'm here to tell you that you are, too. Just the way you are.

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