My thoughts are dancing to a boundless beat. As my pulse rapidly pumps blood threw my veins. I recall memories of love and heartbreak. There are so many emotions that have obscured my mind and left my body in vexation. In those dark and restless times, I found relief in the music of my own words. My fingers found a pen and let the real dance begin.
Finally my thoughts seduced the visual picture of my mind. I was taken aback and breathless by its enslaving appeasement. Slowly this quick addiction became apart of my life. Every song that my life has sung; my eyes were experiencing the music of my own words. Ever since my first experience, a piece of paper and pen have been my friend.
I will always have the boundless beat of my thoughts. Ideas start, and unravel plots. I fear the day my fingers and thoughts work together like blood clots. My eyes will be old and my stories will be told. My fingers will be weak. If in the end I am without my friends; paper and pen, my heart will break again.