Words written so vividly,
you can see them come alive before your eyes.
You write as if your lungs depend only on literature to breath;
As if your heart pumped stories instead of blood to live.
As if you needed to write to stay alive,
you've become addicted to picking up the pen.
Writing unconsciously about all your ***** secrets;
your thoughts, and daily activities go onto paper.
A beautiful soul;
A chaotic mind.
You'll never get any rest with a poetic mind.
This started on a piece of napkin paper,
I hope ya'll enjoy it.
