Unfeeling
Undisturbed
In simply the worst of times
Potentially leaving others reeling
Or in my stead disturbed
Whilst leading on conversation
How is it all so?

Am I to be assuming
That it is encouraged
To put on a painted mask
Of emotions, when the fact of the matter
Is that there is nothing existing behind it?
Nothing more than a blank, slippery canvas
That simply cannot be painted upon

- Jay M
February 2nd, 2021

without heartache
how would i ever know love?
and if not for misery
could i be happy?
it is the duality
that makes the one
good
and the other
bad
they each contrast one another
for without contrast
our painting would be colored canvas
blank, totally devoid of any deeper meaning

I am a blank canvas, you are amazing. I'm inspired by you, but feel like a non creative painting. Open my eyes, please, let me see. Who am I really meant to be, what fate has been decided. I know I'm art, but can I be guided. Nothing spoken from the heart is crooked, but how long has the author spent on me, they didn't love me as much as you. I don't know how I don't know why but just the sight of makes me leap into the sky. Your the only thing that makes me happy, and I'm no longer a blank canvas. Like a flower blooming, or a caterpillar coming out of it's cocoon, I am now something of beauty, and I owe it all to you.

So much to say
Yet I can’t find the words

Or the will

and suddenly
i dont want
to write
anymore
my mouth
seems too tired
to utter
a word
hands
are too numb
to write a prose
mind
is too blank
heart
is no longer beating
too fast
i
just
wanna write
no more

Eli S.                                  10/3/17
To: Eli S.

NO SUBJECT

Are you here yet?

Sincerely, Eli S.