Ink

I cannot speak until I really know what you are doing here
Vision narrows as you stroll in, and I barley keep my hands from shaking
Two lime-colored neon signs hang across my vision like someone took a knife to the dark walls and revealed a second world
Maybe that's where you came from

I pretend to navigate the room with my own intentions, but everyone knows
They know that you were like a tattoo for me, something that seemed undoubtedly right
And I ask myself why they hold their tongues
Leave me to find the words, alone

I am mapped in your choices
Scores of ink that read like bedtime stories
I think of days long gone
Will you read with me?