Feel each and every single stoke of my pen - or, word from my keyboard.
I spill out my heartbreak, like the spilling of wine. The floor is now stained blood red. Maybe it is blood, you never know with me. I don't even trust myself at this point.
These fresh thoughts, but old feelings.
New tears, but same issues.
Where's the growth?
Feel the magnitude of my words. They aren't simple scribbles.
Listen to my screams, I shout my deepest secrets. Listen to my stories and let them soak in, like rain.
The pitter-patter changes from a soft drizzle to thunderous pounding.
Listen, feel, embrace.
Grow my writings, change them, apply them, enjoy them.
Feel what I want you to feel as I write these stories, be the tool in which the passion flows.
Feel my words and listen to them.
Take into account the passion poured in and know,
it is for you,
it is you.
We're all the same,
just a different set of words;
Different set of scribbles.
Work with me, jump into my stream and drown in my current.
We can do it together, just open a vein and feel it all with me.