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here my eyes slowly blink i'm not sure what she's saying the mechanical pencil in my hand clicks to reveal some lead click click click i break the thin cyclinder click click click
To read is to step into an alternate reality To write is to build one To act is to live outside of yourself To dance is sometimes just to have fun To sing is to let your worries flow
I write on my wrists the lies that were told. I draw picture of the love that was untold. I imagined meanings that never came true. I wrote You. I drew You. I imagined You..
As a child, one teaches oneself to draw With crayons, no doubt, on paper plain raw. The colors that swirl are unmistakable prints Of genius within the kid of talents.
These hands delve into the ground to remake what I once found When I was better and my conscience was light as a feather I made this as empty as I feel, but now I'm not alone I am a weight eroding those
To Hold. To Feel. To Write. To Draw. To Move. To Clench. Mine to Own, Yours to Hold. God’s best tool He’s given me. Hands.