Hues mixing under a blank sky, I look at all I've done in wonder
Was that me
Or did someone steal my hand for their own poetic ruse?
You see as of late I seem confused
And stay in the atmosphere of here and there
My location wasn't given much care
Physically or mentally
And the moon im under stays blank as the sky
And I ponder if it's meant to be
Ask myself why the ink has all but dried from my well

See

I used to constantly change
Now I stay the same
Uttering words in patterns that are always absurdly similar
Pricking myself with my pen to no avail
Because the blood had too many stories to tell
Most drug on and on for mental miles
That many would cover in a single step,
But I sat frozen,
Observing like this pain was a film

But on nights like this
When I have dissembled myself to the point of belief
Something catches my eye
The eloquence of a blank sky waiting to be filled with ideas, dreams, and possibilities
And sometimes, its enough to wake me from my doubts