Life is a series of scribbles on napkins, programs, bits, pieces of paper collecting in my back pocket you tell me I am invisible and I would tend to agree for I spent most of my life in everyone else’s shadow instead of the spotlight hiding away, hiding away for never saw myself as anything more than a body and a mouth which no one wanted either so I started to scribble my dreams in slashes and curls so no one could read my hatred and pain and I found misery to be comforting and in the bleak I linger in the gray dangling between dark and light blending into background of these scribbles smearing upon fingertips as words swirl tongue everything falls through fingers and this voice cracks under pressure and you tell me I am invisible and I would tend to agree rather be in someone’s shadow than spotlight, because in the bleak these scribbles define me capture me in the gray, blending me into backdrop
Poetic Trials 