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"poet. searching"
by theusedpoet (2005-05-18.01) |
i remember the days
i hid beneath the powder-
buried myself alive
The drugs, sex and lies
have nothing to do with me but paint::
the reds and blues within my life.
Splattered on the canvas
are the remains- the moments,
the escapes::echoes of truth.
The colors are too bright
and black 'n' white too vivid-
you don't know me
but you think you do.
i love listening to you depict me-
paint me this wonderful hue,
one that does not claw,
bite and bleed.
i love the crystal perfectness of her image-
her lust for the beauty of stars,
young and fresh- she's free.
i remember the moments,
the laughter that overwhelmed me.
i remember and this cage burns
until my flesh cries out,
crawling until i die to bleed.
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