Sunday, January 13, 2013

Viva La Revolution

These words are my retreat.
I live surrounded by
and sameness.
These words...
These runny-ink compositions are my welcomed veil.
They are my warmth and my color.
They are my declaration to be pink instead of grey!
So I will go on sucking my inspiration through
a little blue straw,
because a small conduit of inspiration is better than none at all.
Because in the end, little blue straws are what make us alive.
The outlet of inspiration is what keeps us sane,
and allows for our resistance against the grey.
Make war with the bleak!
Pick up our pen and drink in life!

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Sunday, January 6, 2013


Even in my dreams you blind me.
Not the kind of blind that takes away sight;
but the kind of blind that, taken breathless by a sight
attracts attention to that great sight in such a way
that nothing else can be seen.
For, your colors are the only true colors.
Your contrast stands out against the blackness
like a sunshine of bright eyes,
and waves of hair that inspired the ocean itself.
And now, what of me?
I stumble around unsatisfied;
for, having seen a sight so blinding,
my vision remains imprinted with you.
So now, neither in this world,
or the one made of dreams,
can I ever have an unclouded view.
For you pump through my veins
and haunt my skin's very pores,
and my vision is blinded by you.

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