most neglect to understand the pen not in the face of soul
but as TELLER of soul
it is broken shard of mind that caresses the paper and extracts specks of...pain?
all an artist knows is what spills aimless
drifting pieces of color, letters form thoughts, form words, sentences
hope, deny and create self.
artists do not speak
they scream with each pin point of searing (pain?) and rest at peace
please
don't understand my mind and tell me, wonder, tell me, smile
when you haven't listened for my heart beat in sleep
at least a thousand times.
No art for me today, it is such a day of rest that both Jeff and I totally need. But like the song says: "you were always on my mind"
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