I trace the lines forth and back,
seeing a life from the mind’s eyes.
Getting clearer now this winding sketch,
and how it may go under my own hands.
The ink spills now and then,
smudges the cloth a thousand threads.
Tear it apart again and again,
looking for a perfection until I can’t.
Stained my arms, stained my face,
still something’s out of place.
Won’t stand still, afraid of being overtaken
by a desperation that has no name.
Something inside tells me not to trust
a crazy little thing they call love.
Steadying my hands as I draw the lines,
throw away passion for some peace and quiet.
A hopeless quest, a deranged mind,
bursting with love, don’t know how to express.
“You can come with me now, I know the way.”
Finally a voice says, “Don’t be afraid.”