Feel

Just some late-night thoughts

how foolish I think I am to believe that my words will someday send a rush of color through a black and white mind,
how silly I am to believe my midnight phrases could unwind the most tangled souls,
and reconcile an imagination once vivid, but has now grown decrepit and old....
I know not the impact I hold,
I know not the muse I could unfold with a simple letter or encrypted riddle.
still my fingers strum against the keys like a heartbeat or a stinging breeze.
my innermost regrets and secrets spilling onto the page like I've ripped open my chest and let every unspoken thought rage against anyone who has the courage to listen.
my bravery will never die,
my pride will never cease,
at least- not until someone reads the one thing that makes me-
me, and actually listens.
actually takes my words into consideration and finds that piece they're missing.
I want to give someone that chill-
the ultimate thrill of knowing that someone knows just how they're feeling-
I want them to look to their ceiling after reading my paper delicacies and grab their heart to keep it from slipping through their fingers in the most unappealing way.
think me sane or think me ill.
I just want to write something and be the inspiration to make someone truly feel