The other day, as I was walking past my dad in the hall, he grabbed my paint-splattered arm and with a raised eyebrow asked, "What is this?"
"These", I said, "are my battle scars from when I went to war with my canvas , so that my ideas would unravel upon it as I need them to."
My canvas is a warzone, a mess with paint splatters and imperfect, unfinished ideas. You see, my hand and my head aren't exactly on speaking terms. There's a rather unfortunate love triangle going on. My head is trying to connect with my hand, but it refuses to listen. My hand only follows the beat of my heart even though my heart just really wants to be on speaking terms with my head again. What results is a bipolar mess.
3-D clashes with 2-D while bright battles the dark. Even though my canvas never comes out the way I want it to, it only comes out the way it was meant to be. It reflects a girl who tries too hard to be perfect. A girl who has lost some pieces and will never be able to find them. If not for human kindness, her cracks would be visible.
These colorful battle scars that splatter against the paleness of my arm show what I have endured, but like everything, they will wash off eventually.

Why am I like this?
What have I turned into?
You're all I think about
and I feel like a lost puppy most of the time,
like I'm waiting for you
to seek me out and find me.

Why?!

What is it about you that has reduced me
to repeated I love you's
and I miss you's
and I can't wait to see you's?
I have never been so honest about my feelings
to anyone before
and this terrifies me.

The power that you have over me,
that I have given you so willingly,
terrifies me.
And now,
you're all I write about.

I like to write about what I see
happening around me,
the people and things
that matter the most to me,
and my thoughts
so thank you!
You have made writing
so much easier for me
because you have blinded me
to everything happening around me,
you are what's happening around me.
You are all that matters to me
and I cannot stop thinking about you!

I cannot stop thinking about you!
I cannot stop thinking about you!
I cannot stop thinking about you!
I am starting to think that
there is something wrong with me.
This cannot be normal.
This is not healthy,
I should know;
I was always a sick child.
And this is so strange to me
because the only way
to make me feel better
is to think about you.

On the days that I spend
too much time alone in my room,
where I hate the world,
when I want nothing more
than to just go home,
where I spend hours in bed,
clutching a pillow and wishing it was you,
on the days that I miss you,
I think of you.
I think of you.
I think of you...

I don't know why I'm like this.
I don't know what I've turned into,
but when I think of you,
*it all makes sense.

you've left him a sad mess
a sorrowful, flightless bird
his wings
beat

and beat
and beat
and beat
and beat

against the floor where he lay
and nothing

did you enjoy it?
watching him writhe about
while you sat upon the pedestal
he placed you on

we all watched him fall
just like the others
only this time
I thought you had changed

you walked off the pedestal
gracefully
to the cage
you'd left him in

and touched him
gently
held him up
high above you

(even the stars
were jealous)

only to wring his neck
while we watched

and yet
he remains

wings broken
beyond belief

sometimes
he thinks he can sing instead

*but you've taken that too
haven't you?