Fickle thoughts
burst amongst speckled dots
encased within tissue
escape is not without issue.
For when the thoughts burst free
the outsiders despise what they see
for the boss sends impulses
that are no longer deprived of indulgences.
Flailing limbs, loose tongues
speaking ones truth often isn’t fun
our memories twisted and rung
unable to be left out to dry
instead were trapped within an awful cry.
The feeling is as if were trapped in a blood soaked forest
in which we pray were merely just a tourist
and soon we will depart
back to our homes within our heart.
When creating the image I started off with a dark red color and then continued from there. As I stared at the image I began to see tree branches and their tops I interpreted as a brain. The poem above is my reaction to the image.
Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina
Temperamentally Tina 