Thoughts like pencil drawings
Erased and then retraced
Mason jars of captured thought
Slow stewed and honestly wrought
Sought after by many kings
Bringing me gifts of sundry things
Particles of notions
Swim like oceans inside my head
Dread locked and woven
Into my chest
Harder to breathe
Orders of rhythms
New and intricate to find
Mine fields of explosive action
Reaction to dissatisfaction
Pre-determined arrangements
Estranging and turning into
Liquid pavement
When is my king simply
Gonna come and save me?
We orchestrate sections of thought
Hope at some point
They begin to harmonize
With one another
Mysteries rise and fall from
Between my legs
To between my breast
I am not beset
Merely discouraged
My softly once readily evident
Has been replaced
By the beast that used to
Sleep in my pocket
Waiting for the right moment
To rise to Queendom
I now run from the sound of my voice
Aware of my rise to precedence
I want to see the evidence
Why am I faded to steel and stone?
I hate to be alone and long
Only to be held
Meld with another
Until of us a child is born
I mourn the loss of yesterme
Fear the path it takes
To arrive at my destination
Awaiting the sensation I crave
The return of real love
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