I dream in black and grey drawings.
Like a flip book of subliminal messages.
Every mark a memory
Underneath eraser stains
Your outline is still visible
I've only got one canvas
So I'll have to make beautiful things
Around your shadow
Like I'd never made you into art at all

So many posts, so many poets, all with so much to say:
From depression to elation, amusement or anger,
Face happy melancholy on a lonely nostalgia,
For ridiculous notions of false power, ugly truths
and beauty which scours
a battle between angst
and acceptance in their most forlorn hours, spent
at home or away, throughout night or day, so many words
struggling to capture, release or keep at bay
these things we all feel everyday.

Sometimes I just don't know what to say
so I let another's words give my thoughts away:
"I guess I could be pretty ******* about what happened to me, but it's hard to stay mad when there's so much beauty in the world.
Sometimes I feel like I'm seeing it all at once, and it's too much.
My heart fills up like a balloon that's about to burst;
And then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold on to it, and then it flows through me like rain, and I can't feel anything but gratitude
for every single moment of my stupid little life."
That's all I didn't have to say.

Today I feel very bland
I am that nasty tan color of the walls in school
I am that odor of stale cigarette smoke that fills your nostrils
I feel so plain I make chicken stock look extravagant
No drive or real motivation
Just moving through the paces
Like I figured out humanities hidden robotic algorithms

Someone please inspire me

Muttering, stuttering,
Lost in thought,
Steps are stumbling,
All signs
Of a heart
That's fluttering
With love

Walking with your head down
Doesn't leave much to see