camouflage heart

i drank coffee out of a red paper cup while i scratched out a song on a napkin for my mother.  there was a man singing hallelujah on the piano but i could hear in his voice he didn’t know what hallelujah means.  a lady complimented me on my embroidered jacket because she was eating chips and is peaceful and could find detail with her eyes.  my mother always said that artists saw the world in a different light.  i want to be an artist so i never miss a thing.  i leaned on a blue mailbox outside of a bar as i listened to him speak about a girl he was in love with.  i folded inside as i told him to be patient and have faith because what is meant to be will always work out even though i’m not sure i believe it anymore.  the tone in his voice was tender and i know that even though they were drunk on their walk, he still knew what 4:30 in the morning really mean.  he said she sings jazz, so i guess i understand.  i noticed the stiff life on the wall but i never have before.  fruit is always interesting i guess. i but i wish i could have frozen the two of us that one night and someone paint the life that was still in your eyes so i couldn’t forget even though i want to.  there are highlighted lines in this book that beat around the bush almost as well as i do.  i glance at the fire then put my ink to my wrist and write some more.