stumbling through the woods

A pen dipped in my blood

Your words play over the page like ballerinas dancing with grace and beauty.

Your were born to do this.

Your hands were meant to hold a pen, you touch the lives the lives of all.

Like a doctor of literature.

You can say nothing and say everything at the same time.

Your very intimidating, to say the least.

Your brutally honest and curious .

I put my words in my music.

I read you and your a present day Shakespeare.

If I tried to summarize you I'd forget the most important thing

Everything.

And I wouldn't know where to start.

Your words are those that should be read by everyone,

Were you truly born this way?

Or did you have your own personal Aristotle?

I envy the paper, it knows why your thinking

Why cant i?

Your words are like a cliff and the raging ,grey , waters pulling the reader in.

Its scares me that I would jump without a second thought, or even a first.