Inanimate Objects

My notebook is tapping me on the shoulder asking me to be hugged.


The paper screaming at me wanting to indulge in my thoughts.


Now my pen is crying to the paper, “I just want to be ouched!


Now my conscience is laughing at me, cause she’s scrambling my thoughts.


I’m trippin’ staring at the ceiling…

Did my brain just fart?


My mind is speaking to me, “Leighrick embrace your Art


Now my feelings “cock-blocking”, cause now I dont even know where to start.


I close my eyes and my futures looking back at me like,

Come on, I could’ve sworn I gave you a head-start


I am chasing my future in my dreams

 “Boy is this odd


Now sit back and finish reading, acknowledge me…


Damn, now that’s ART.”