strange18days

[strange18days]

Spilled Thoughts

From the hours of 1am to 7

Have I lost my mind?

I seemed to misplace where I put my coffee down

My mind must be somewhere within the steam of espresso beans.

I can’t find my pen.

My sanity obviously is linked to ink pressed to paper.

The walls have never been so dull,

Yet memories hang throughout this vast emptiness.

I bet my mind is hung somewhere in the clouds

Made up in your mind

And born in a dream

But the truth of reality will always been seen.

My coffee has gone cold.

[strange18days]

I want the parts

Of you

That your mind

Only

Shares at midnight

I seek the depths

Of your

Soul

Hidden

From a world

Gone cold

[strange18days]

[strange18days]

I am not a poet,

I am not even a writer.

I am…

But,

A lover,

An admirer,

Of beautiful,

Raw

Emotions.

[strange18days]

It is 3am

And I am stained in paint

Of memories.

Smothered by words

Pressed with ink.

And all I really want

Is a damn

Cup of coffee.

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[strange18days]

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