Smooth strokes of color lay lost... an inspiration absolutely pure. My eyes are unable to focus. I take in a shuttering breath and as my head tilts up, I shut them tight. The wind rushes through my clothes, billowing around my body…another breath… and I feel whole again. Art comes naturally, honestly it does! It pulses through my veins, it grasps a brush, bringing my hands to paper. Art plagues my brain, eating away reality. Sometimes I’m left not knowing where my mind ever truly lies. Or whether my mind stays in one spot in the first place. I just feel my ribcage fill with vague air, grasping poison to my throat…inhaling, letting it soothe the ache in my chest.
Smooth strokes of color lay lost
Inspiration absolutely pure
My eyes are unable to focus.
Take in a shuttering breath
My head tilts up,
I shut them tight.
The wind rushes through my clothes
Billowing around my body
Another breath
I feel whole again.
Art comes naturally,
Honestly it does!
It pulses through my vein
Grasps a brush
Bringing my hands to paper.
Art plagues my brain,
Eating away reality.
Sometimes I’m left not knowing where my mind ever truly lies.
Or whether my mind stays in one spot in the first place.
I feel my ribcage fill with vague air,
Grasping poison to my throat
Inhaling
Letting it soothe the ache in my chest.