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I Sing My Feelings Out On paper
I sing my feelings out on paper,
I am confusion.
I play with minis and run around and laugh,
I am a little girl.
I stand in front of the mirror and make myself look pretty,
I am conceited.
I hear all problems and stories and my ears are away open while my mouth is shut,
I am a listener.
I look all about me and observe the mystic nature of life,
I am a seer.
I cuddle when I'm feeling low and I need an arm around me,
I am a child.
I love and need someone to to help me by loving me too,
I am a woman.
He doesn't treat me like a girl ought to be treated, but I still like him...
I am pathetic.
I tell you I love you, I kiss you, I touch you,
I trust you.
I moan through still air and need someone to comfort me,
I am in deep pain.
I have big eyes that are full of warm tears. They have seen everything and more then that.
They feel pain and emotion,
I am observant.
I may look ridiculous, but I am not afraid of myself or others,
I am indomitable.
I can handle change, because that's all life is,
Changing constantly, constantly adjusting,
And there is nothing anyone can do about it.
I am always learning.
He says that he loves me, he just wants to hug me, then kiss me.
Only wants to touch me, then put himself inside me.
I am easy.
I do not believe or trust, or offer pulchritudinous complements, and laugh when you offer me sweet whispers of sugar-coated adoration,
I am unlovable.
I think of perfect words and ideas to describe the earth,
I am ruminant.
I think about life and moments and my heart.
I am able to translate these hopes onto paper simultaneously and let others hear myself.
I am a writer.
I am works of life in drawings and sculpted creations. I spend time picking specific characters to represent my imagination.
I am an artist.
I am proud of the sparks that glitter from my head. I need the light to help me get down the straight path without tripping. I travel along the beam and don't fall even while doing tricks and flips.
I am balanced.
My eggs are spread out through nature in diversified baskets. If one egg breaks I move on to the next.
I am well arranged.
I feel the vibrations of the earth under my feet, on the ground. The cries of wisdom all around me give me hope that love is real and will one day find me and help me and hold me close. It will lock me up and capture my dreams in photographs that have no doorway or meaning of the philosophy of the mind. It will grab me and force my dreary hopes up and keep my eyes and ears to myself, and the only sound I'll be able to hear are the crickets chirping in the summer trees, and the harks and whispers of the truth, with the meaning of the light of love holding me together.
I am a believer.