Ode to Unfinished Projects

I have a festering wound of an inspiration that sprouted years ago. She began to grow when I searched through a dictionary to find a word to describe the unmovable pieces raining in my mind – the word I found most closely resembling this state was “nostalgia”. It was a temporary fix, to know there was something akin to the washed out colors that danced like crystals through my heart. They came and went so quickly, I couldn’t stop them to courtesy and ask them their name. I stood with the shudders of my soul open wide freezing and yearning for my impressions of sweeping dreams to solidify my being.