why does the page keep staring back at me blank faced
why do I have to be the one to mar its innocent perfection
why does it fall to me to etch the lines into its worn skin
why can't I escape the wrinkles and smears I create
the ink pours out of my fingers staining everything I touch
black
black
black
on the perfect portrait of pristine purity
I couldn't stop it if I tried
the marks blur behind my tears
as the salty wetness blurs the lines
the blank space is no longer black and white
but gray and I don't know what to think anymore
the more I learn
the less I know
and the more
I'm sure of it
yo I miss y'all. I've been a little busy, and my sporadic posts haven't really been about my life, or interacting with y'all, SO LEMME KNOW WHAT'S UP.
ps if you like miss me or something I'm at least keeping up with my (freaking hilarious) twitter and also instagram and sometimes pinterest, so go head on over there to stalk me. see ya. xo.
