Feed the Shredder

running light fingertips
across a blank canvas
i know no boundaries
no sketches to trap
the scar of a dull crayon

the wordflow isn't as smooth
blanks as easy to fill
a fleeting moment
the only friend
of undercover motions

pencils dipped in paint
damsels drowned in ink
deadening lost hopes
of a drugged prince
on his noble, crippled steed

gunfire snaps, enemy falls
affiliates applause
bulletproof jawline
adorning award winning
heirs to the safety

intrinsic beings
search for companions
fruitlessly calling
phone's off the hook
breathing through a dead jack

house of cards
ace of spades on leave
corporate meeting
with a little lamb
fleece as black as blood

spurting phrases
i sort these thoughts
feed the shredder
the crooked story ending
locking all closed doors