Sketch Attack

Squiggle by squiggle
Line by line
Shapes take place
As I drink my wine
Chasing each other across the white page
Turning on me in a fit of rage
Breaking the bottle and making threats
Shards of glass in their spaghetti strand hands

I had no choice but to set them free
But reality isn't the answer
They'll soon see
Drawings on the run don't have much fun
Full of the emptiness of their artist
Poured out upon the page