Multi heart, multi ears and multi art.
Total isolation and deprivation, multi tongues moving back and forth between lost gaps in my memory.
I cannot be any more descriptive to a pen and paper filled with every word in existence written on its surface.
I am the multi-artist, cursed with the inability to explain how I feel to those whom my words fall on the misguided and ignorant lips.
I cannot show you in print what you need, but I can paint you a demonstration to puzzle your stubborn brain.
Or I could dance these feelings away, movement without reason is just what everybody needs.
Total loss of normality or conformity, multi hands and multi ties bringing me back where I will always be welcome.
I cannot be bothered and patient to someone who won't hear me out, but I can design you a dress for all your misunderstandings.
Or I could make a song you won't take any deeper than just what you hear.
I am the multi-artist, damned with an unbearable destiny that others crave and praise.
Euphoria, passionate lust for the creative world, living and breathing in ideas and concepts.
Justified rage, for a reason of pride and desire nobody else can comprehend.



© Junemousonae