Fear Full

I would wake
with an ache
that couldn’t be mistaken
for anything but passion
so my fingers would warm
around my coffee mug
while my mind
would conjure and tug
words of wonder
to flow yonder
and settle
in the souls
that longed
to ponder

branched leaves
My mind expanded
as my linguistic ability
was accepted
Passions stirred
into writhing rhythms
of succulence
Attractions distracting
from the intent
I relentlessly kept forth
adorning my mind
with more
than my heart had in store

So, I find
my dreams read as real
my truths read as lies
my unbinding of lusted desires
fled into the hands of despair
Unable to tear
my self away
from the days darkness
I now wake
and write
of the pain
that resides
so deeply inside
of how I am portrayed
the ink
that is spilling
is no longer
my willing
Under much duress
I now lay
my pen to rest

My words
are unworthy
not only
of being read
but are being penned

3 thoughts on “Fear Full

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