the loneliest moments of my life?
that's an easy one, it's the weakest memory.
it happens when my hand cant seem to scribble out the familiar words,
when the canvas usually spilled with ideologies, is a blank space.
when the terrible, treacherous thoughts that rumble around can no longer fit,
the only solution is to take 'em down to my loved ones with a punch.
when the hollow spaces in my heart can no longer form those elegant lines.
then again, one can only depend on starched paper for so long.
until your hand breaks the pencil that once molded comfortably to your hand.
until the organized, lined words become sketchy and notorious.
until, slowly, you silently slip away into dangerous temptations.
now you ask, the happiest reminiscence?
the first time i opened my mind to the blank canvas,
how my hand slipped silently, eagerly across the page.
on a fresh new note everyday when nothing was doubted,
when nothing went unforgotten or unfulfilled.
those were what i like to call the glorified days.
if only i had a spare amount of time to realize what it meant to me.
Created: Jan 01, 2010Document Media