Alone

The innermost work within this skull

will never be known.

Memories sewn with the intention I hold,

My fabrics display a story

that may never be understood nor told.

Within the caverns of my mind, no thought is null

or void.

I have yet to meet a fabric whose color is dull.

And the ones I want to avoid

are the most magnificent and colorful.

Incomprehensible by onlookers,

They are perplexed.

For they have fabric of their own to sew.

A tapestry with a process

just as complex.