Lying here beside you
Staring into the brush stroked abyss
My mind registers
And whirs
And composes
The words I'm overrun with
The stories that run down the sides of my consciousness
Like I ran down that hill in my white gown
Running from my past
Into our future
I ache with excitement and yearning to speak with you
Awakenings fresh on my ink stained fingertips
Bubbling on the tip of my canvas stretched tongue
Expanding and morphing their confines
Unrecognizable
Without meaning
Devoid of intelligence
Scrawls and scratches of a cave dweller
Somehow paired with a Greek god
Your smile
Lost in the hieroglyphic translations on the page before you
The conversations I long to have
Reduced to mere finger-painted pictographs
Where I lose your attention
Incapable of expressing your radiance
Jun 14, 2013
Jun 14, 2013 at 3:14 PM UTC
Lying here beside you
Staring into the brush stroked abyss
My mind registers
And whirs
And composes
The words I'm overrun with
The stories that run down the sides of my consciousness
Like I ran down that hill in my white gown
Running from my past
Into our future
I ache with excitement and yearning to speak with you
Awakenings fresh on my ink stained fingertips
Bubbling on the tip of my canvas stretched tongue
Expanding and morphing their confines
Unrecognizable
Without meaning
Devoid of intelligence
Scrawls and scratches of a cave dweller
Somehow paired with a Greek god
Your smile
Lost in the hieroglyphic translations on the page before you
The conversations I long to have
Reduced to mere finger-painted pictographs
Where I lose your attention
Incapable of expressing your radiance
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