Screaming at the Top of My Lungs, Silently

It's a secret I can keep

It's a secret I can share

It's what I do when I'm all alone

It's what I do when everyone is there

I'm astounded

That such physical things of this world keeps Me so grounded

To the point where though my Imagination runs vivid,

I don't have the ability to live it.

Therefore, I pick up my pen

And on paper, I start living again.

Through words of color though written in black in white

During daylight hours or the darkest times at Night.

This centrifugal marriage of thoughts and words come through

To show myself to always stay true

To the burning passion that will always reside

In my mind's eye and my heart's desire that is trapped inside.