My mind is a mix of color and paint
Confusing me from reality and fake
Coloring me what I shouldn't be
Drawing all the colors of a world
That is not reality
And I can't stop
I don't have a choice now
This is my life
I could of escaped
If I thought of something
Other then color and paint

I want to smile
A real smile
Not the fake ones
I put on every day
I want to smile
But I can't
I can't be happy
When there is nothing
To be happy about
A smile seems to hard to do
When all you can think about is
Unhappiness

I'm a self destructive mess.
Putting myself down
Starving myself
Because when I see myself
I feel I am not good enough
You shouldn't love me
You shouldn't care.
You shouldn't be near me
Because I am self destructive
And I will hurt you
In the process
Of hurting myself
I know I scare you
With all the things
I think badly about myself
But I didn't tell you to love me
But maybe
You can help me fix myself
Because I am a self destructive mess
And so are you
I guess that is why we work together
So perfectly

Weren't you told,
Some time ago,
A picture's worth a thousand words.
Well I can show with a click or two,
A thousand pics for each word you choose.

My spirit animal is a sloth.
I do the bare minimum to survive.
Does it bother me?....Not!

Its actually quite fun
To watch others work, and work
Someone tell me what is it worth!

I mean, when you die
Everything you sacrificed for
Doesn't it stay behind?

Besides, people do stuff for me.
A thank you and a smile later
They definitely let me be.

This happens over and over again
So I've settled into it
My folks still complain a bit.

But come on now...
When does an apple fall far from a tree?
Certainly didn't happen to me!

My spirit animal is definitely a sloth
Does it bother you?
I hope not.

I was born in the wrong era.
Though I wear pants,
I want to dress like Cinderella.

I want my corset to dig into my skin,
And my ******* to pop.
Is my life anything like that?
I must tell you...of course not!

I want my lover to feed me fruit,
And touch me as if I am made of gold.
Men nowadays are nothing like that.
They are too **** bold... or old!

I want to receive love letters
And go on walks on the park.
I want to go to fancy *****
And criticize cheap art.

I was born in the wrong era.
And though I talk too much
I want a man to kiss me before I start.

If only...

Ink on paper warms my heart,
So set it a flame
And I'm yours from the start.

Ink on paper is a feeling of love,
Forever free,
Like a milky-white dove.

Ink on paper is very hard to do,
I fail over and over
And for that I feel blue.

But ink on paper is also a drug...
Can't let go or quit
Clouds your mind with its fog.

Its forever you know?
Your contract with it...
So think once, maybe twice
Before indulging in bliss.

.
If you happen to find a poet
hiding shyly beneath a stone.
Gently put him in your pocket
and carry him safely home.

Show him love and kindness,
take time to get to know him.
And if you smile so sweetly
he will gladly pen you a poem.

For if you hold his real value,
and recognise his true worth.
He'll look deep into your soul,
to give you the sun, moon and earth.

© Pagan Paul (05/04/17)