Apr 2016
My blood is the ink
And my body your canvas.
Like an artist crazed, you tear me open ever more
So not to run out of paint.
It's time I shout: never more
And stitch myself shut tight
And store my beautiful colors inside.
And my body your canvas.
Like an artist crazed, you tear me open ever more
So not to run out of paint.
It's time I shout: never more
And stitch myself shut tight
And store my beautiful colors inside.
Had a random thought that floated through my mind and I just went with it and found myself with this as the end of it.
