Lord Jet

As I bleed my art to this canvas I release my deepest emotions.
I bring them to life in the form of words and metaphors, Similes and personification.
My Masterpieces are unique, no duplicate, no imitations.
My genius Brings upon Intimidation to my readers.
...

who am i?
can you tell me?
you cant tell me, can you?
im lost in my thoughts,
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...

...

retaining, suppressing, hoarding these feelings for you.
veiling my emotions, encrypting them so you wont ascertain their intentions.
terrified if you will reciprocate my love, or if you can even comprehend it.
bombarding you with sex is the only way my love can actually be heard or felt.
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The lonely rhapsodist
unable to articulate himself, muttering in a corner, petrified of the world around him
he finds comfort amalgamating pen and paper
transmuting paper to his voice
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Crafting my soul into my art or my poetry
letting it take form
letting it manifest my deepest thoughts on to this papyrus
allowing my readers to understand me
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The poetic pessimist,
scrawling these soliloquies onto a piece of parchment extracted from my conscious
im using these outspoken thoughts as an impervious shield in times of peril
gathering courage, but my shield is diminishing, waning on my hubris
...