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