writing red

broken red on hand, pastel blue on my mind - this seeking is endless like i'm inside an elemental unindexed file.  intangible in your perception.  frosted thoughts through a looking glass.  i pause. prodded on by the momentum, the broken red continues to write on.  its white covering leaden feelings.  allowing only undiminished thinking.  my musings are my heart and i wander endlessly, i know i must get hold of myself.  take control and begin again. . . the elements around me swirling... colliding... mingling... emerging... my need for solace is a hunger in itself.  and it must be fed, or soon i'd wither...   as flowers bloom, nourished deep in the roots, tended by sun and rain,  so am i.