The writers
The poets
The painters
The 3 AM, fingers hurt, brain stirring creators
The perfectionists
The ones who see lines others don’t
The ones that make magic of color,
blindly constructing new hues
that sparkle souls
The coffee dependent nicotine optional private spaces and nostalgic places thinkers
The sunset embracing never picture taking beauty only felt by the soul nature lovers
The lost, the ones that have no idea the gifts they possess
The one’s whose aura floats
masking senses stirring emotions

I need you.
The world needs you.
For what is a world without the beauty of creation?
I don’t want to know.
Expose your soul.
Parts of yours keep mine from breaking.