A scrap

well here we go

you see I'm in a bit of mood
words are falling from my lips 
like a splash of ink 
slightly chaotic 
yet some read meaning into it

i have this filling 
some times 
my mind feels 
like a glass 
over full
the surface bends
with a desire to spill forth 

so the choas must 
or it only builds 

these words 
these words
are just scraps 

fragments of thoughts 
dashed across the page

in a vain attempt 
to draw flowers and jems 
from black ink 

My mind is still reeling 
from a summer of sunsets 
and orange moons rising off still water 

the stark reality of 
white walls 
and black chairs 

is slowly settling my 
thoughts 
into a winter time pace 
learned on a ski hill 

so let me leave 
befor my mood 
drownds the page
in tracks 
of inky chaos