April 2, 2012.
The only thing I am capable of drawing
is a city skyline.
Anonymous configurations
buildings I've never actually seen before.
Everytime I was handed a writing utensil
and a smooth wriing surface
my hand would flow into the careful rhythm
of drawing parallel lines
some buildings were topped off with triangular party hats
others remained flat
a place for the horizion to rest upon
This started at a young age.
Somewhere between eight and twelve.
My body began to itch for a city
that was overcrowded with the heat
of dream driven bodies
A constant ticking of an alarm clock
that would never understand
the word snooze
Tonight, I am reminded of this feeling.
The worn out, drugged feeling
unsatiated with drawing the familiar pattern
A feeling I've constantly felt
but a skyline I've never seen
Apr 4, 2012
Apr 4, 2012 at 12:53 AM UTC
April 2, 2012.
The only thing I am capable of drawing
is a city skyline.
Anonymous configurations
buildings I've never actually seen before.
Everytime I was handed a writing utensil
and a smooth wriing surface
my hand would flow into the careful rhythm
of drawing parallel lines
some buildings were topped off with triangular party hats
others remained flat
a place for the horizion to rest upon
This started at a young age.
Somewhere between eight and twelve.
My body began to itch for a city
that was overcrowded with the heat
of dream driven bodies
A constant ticking of an alarm clock
that would never understand
the word snooze
Tonight, I am reminded of this feeling.
The worn out, drugged feeling
unsatiated with drawing the familiar pattern
A feeling I've constantly felt
but a skyline I've never seen
