Angry swirls
Of blacks,
Dark clouds
Rolling in.
Swept by
Desperate hands.
Claw marks
On the canvas.
Kissed by
Gentle strokes
Of soft pink
The promise
Of a sweet sunrise
Breaking through
The clouds.
This is my
Painting of love.

I keep looking for someone
who sees the world how I do.
Swirling metaphors
and striking colors,
Sunsets and beauty
and tragedy....

But perhaps I need
a facts and figures
Logical kind of person,
To pull my head out of the clouds.

I'm tired of the damage
I'm tired of the sorrow
Let's bring out the happy
Let's do it tomorrow

Did she offend you?
Baring her shoulders, her collarbones, her knees,
How risqué of her.
Dressed for comfort in the 90 degree weather,
She was asking for it, right?

Did you not break her?
Make her scared to wear what she wants or walk alone.
But she deserved that, didn't she?

Are you sorry for hurting her?
After you used her, she tried to **** herself three times,
All because you couldn't control yourself.
Was her body so distracting that you took away
Her whole life?