Why I Write: Abstraction

Abstraction

The most nerve-wracking concept because it’s

uncontainable, descriptive in its un-definition

Abstraction begs for more than greys in a world of black and white

it pleads for color

bleeds color and runs wild with it

It breaks rules and hearts and cuts

that which should not be cut

It isn’t merely contented by your discomfort

or confusion, it wants to wreck your ideals

But I

I wanted to make sense:

Paintings literal

Songs melodic

Poems methodical

Defined,

     balanced

          logical

This was my life

Then it came, the rushing abstraction which tore

at my worldview

and my body

and my art

The sickness that came from my perfection

was fed by it

grew by it

killing me and the lines within which I lived my life

Powerless, the lines dissolved Broken, there was no

                balance

logic      

                                definition

Personal hell became a colorful public release

Relief at my own imperfection which was forced upon me

And so I write

But I do not write pretty verses that rhyme

(although it may happen from time to time)

But if I do, it is because I own my words

My words do not own me

And I will write without rules, because that is what I want now:

abstraction