My
anxiety
frustration
confusion
present themselves
in every stroke of
my paintbrush
in every line I
weave
every image
I create from my
muddled mess
of thoughts

Every word
that stumbles
from my head
drips with the musings
of my over-active
mind

my angst could create
a novel
my sorrows could paint
the world

Shiny hair
framed the perfect face
with cheekbones build in stone
and red lips, so big and oh so kissable

I wrote a book
only about those eyes
two wet crystals surrounded
by her lovely long luscious lashes

Provocation beauty
her body was a piece of art
collarbones just as sharp as knives
shoulder blades like the wings of an angel

But her mind was a place
where I wouldn't wish my worst enemy

empty - yet burning
filled up - yet freezing

- *Emmatell