Friday, November 23, 2012

Naked

Won't dress up my writing with fancy lines or curves. Refuse to Sugar cote my Salty words. Cannot give of myself in it's entire depth if, I pretend to have never been broken inside. Denied admissions that indeed I've cried. Couldn't act as though I've never known pain or, been on the brink of losing my mind. Clutching tightly those spurts of energy borrowed from my inner child who was whispering- "I think I can." I have taken it all off. stripped down, bare skinned. Stood mercifully before you in hopes of making clear blured vision and... warped opinions of my reply to life. What I place down on these pages is confidence. Honesty is never unsure of it's destiny. It will always land erectly in truth My writing may never make every soul's acquaintance nor meet their apppeal. Yet, unfailingly will impress upon it's audience what is real. My writing... The one thing that never dies a death within me. Literal Savior that blankets; un-bent, aged, lines that speak from it's Elder soul of the inner me. Humble.. The one thing I vow to always be. False pride I commanded.. "let go of me." (Screaming) "you've been replaced by my epidome!!!" Won't dress up my writing with fancy lines or curves Offering you crusts of the outer earth of me. Instead.. I deliver unto you the center me Alpha & Omega ME equals the sum total of the equation My writing plus me... Infinite