Incomplete….

I’m an unfinished work of art, its why I won’t let you see me

          I am still in the making, so deep in the making           that some days I don’t even recognize me          

Some parts are already dried up,

 others all wet and raw, it’s disgusting  

         Why would I let you see a half made up brain?           Do you really wanna look at blurry dreams, painted on the wrong canvas(probably)?          

  You wanna listen to incomprehensible stutters that should  explain emotion?

I choose to not subject you to an unformed art

because one day I’m formed, the next I unravel…..it’s why I won’t let you see me