So it seems
The color of my ink
Is to be shown again
Under natural light

The canvas of 360°
With no start and no end
And all the twists
The sharp bends

I color every corner
With the tip of my felt pen
Now that it's back
And I can feel again

Is there a warranty for my brain?
This one's broken and it's driving me insane.
Where oh where can a new one be claimed?

If I can't replace it, I guess I'll get it fixed.
All of its wires seem to be in a mix.
Leaving my body in unrelenting twist.

The circuit to my lungs just doesn't work,
I can't breathe when I fall asleep, mentally that hurts.
Please can you fix my brain?
I need my breathing back or I'll be in the back of a Hearse.

I
Don't
Know
****

I don't believe in conventional ends, and there may be ruins, but ruins only stand to be seen as a symbol of something that was once grand

In order for one to reach their fullest potential,
Must they first know what that is?

Our paths may be different
We may go different ways
But I'm here to help you
I'm here today

I don't write here often
Anymore
But I felt a need to spread the seed
To say that
You're not the only one
Who's trying
To find peace