Ballpoint Frustration

I took a ballpoint in my hand.
The marriage
of paper and ink began
Gave birth
to the blaring
scrawls plucked from my mind
to be trails for those
I left behind.

I let a little madness trot,
kept it on a leash with reason
As I fenced with all
the might of my burning heart
these questions that quell
the surge in my honeyed blood:

How do you show love?
How do you show hate?
How do you show happiness?
How do you show pain
while steering away from clichés?
What's their color, what's their shape?
What's their scent, what's their texture?
How do you paint them all...
With just paper
and ink?

How to let you see
the tango of words and thoughts
from me
How to solidify
a metaphysical world
while fighting this thirst
building in me,
thirst to give you so many things,
these things seen through my eyes.
What should I do
when saying isn't enough,
what should I do.
When this pen is all I have.

        Watch Me Weep

Like the clouds on a summer day
Hope thins to transparency
And fails to catch the teardrops
Hiding behind the jagged scrawls of ink.
Should the truth in my blood drip
Into a glimmering evanescent promise
To momentarily blind me
And quench the thirst of my grasping soul,
Would the cold truth the wind is humming
And the scorching reality of the sun
Ripping on my skin
Have me bear the pain
Yes... this senseless malady
Is killing me.