The Coasts of Nowhere

March 8, 2011, getting warmer thank god

Imagine the flowers,

Touching the moon, breaking the sky

Crossing your heart, hoping to die

In the middle of nowhere.

Stuck in the spaces in between.

To drained to care.

I find my place in the middle

Of tomorrow and yesterday.

My heart has yet nothing

For your hungry self to feed.

My soul, to empty

To fill your anxious deed.

My strokes have much more to share

Then you will ever hear them say.

My smears, hidden beneath the surface, you wouldn't dare.

My eraser to which disguises my mistakes.

My detail is found most appealing.

It's imperfections, outstandingly perfect.

It's flaws are what make it so inviting.

It's simplicity holds the most complexity.

Telling whatever tell-tale story it may store

Revealing all that seemingly builds up

Venting all the more

Painting is not in my life

For life is in my painting.