Scribble Artist


Another old find…

It’s 430 in the morning
and I’m tossing and turning
having disillusioned thoughts
half dreams
half spirit
half turmoil
trapped in the recess or what should of
could of
if it ever will be
Honestly, I’m desperately seeking me outside of the face that smiles
the ears that listen
the shoulders that bears
supports
comforts
stuck inside a private diary with thoughts too deep to even reveal themselves on locked pages behind an anonymous name
just want to ramble
just want to vent
want to love
let go
be
free
but it’s 430 in the morning and even as I’m tired from a long weeks work, I’m still plagued by thoughts of what I could have done for you
for you
ha
how about for me
so i could breathe
and live
no walls
no boundaries
expectations met by loyalty
I am loyal to the point of fault
yet just as equally promiscuous
at times I scare myself
my alter ego…. be tripping
Her name is Blaze
Seething with lust and seduction
Innocently destructing
Yet addictive
It’s been said that we don’t know boundaries
But some people just don’t have none
And with Blaze, there are no lines to cross
No boxes to fill
Just an open canvass and she is like a graffiti artist
It’s damn near too chaotic to be called art
Yet beautifully so
Paint me a world without definitions
Purple hearts
And blue smiles
In orange eyes
With golden locs
And winged backs
Take me to a place where letting go is just as easy as holding on
And all parties involved can walk away unaffected

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One thought on “Scribble Artist

  1. Take me to a place where letting go is just as easy as holding on
    And all parties involved can walk away unaffected […..]

    Yes indeed. I’ve certainly wanted to experience this. Just. Once.

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