Art speaks words unheard,
   The feelings paints pictures unseen.
       It is beauty and drastic ideas combined
      A mix of pleasure and pain
      All experiences add a different taste
        Rough edges and smoothness entwined.
Touch it and fall into a dream
The artist lived and lives within.

I don't want to write
but I feel the need to
Don't want to drag up the past
But the issues make me do
Don't want to crack open my heart
Or peel the scabs off
Don't want to feel those feelings
That permeates my being's loss
Sometimes the drive ignores my disdain
Plows right through conscious awareness of pain
It will push you to the standing room only
Leave your lurching on death's edge where nothing is phony
Memories long hidden
are herded like beast
Upon the white pages details all of the least
Life flows like the ink's blood taming the beast
There is peace now once
the urges have ceased