Open up my door

I swallowed this morning and felt a dryness that has become periodic and a bit annoying…
running for your life, out of breathe, only to look up and see how long you have left to go… kind of dryness…
there once was a time when a moments stare at the stars or a rain drop could spark so much…
color is not color if you can’t take the time to appreciate the depth, simplity, uniqueness of color…
as fragile as creativity is, I used to grab it frequently, mold it and give it back to the community…
flares of it now run through me, but not quite as vivid…
… it’s still there though…that spark…that fire…that cool…that sense of rythm sways just right…
the wind has pushed me toward using that naked eye in ways that are productive…
just not the way I thought she should be used all the time…
worried…naw…
patient…yeah… that’s more like it…
when it breaks though its gonna be a mutha fucka…
watch out for it…you’ll like it…
if you feel me…nudge the door a little.