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  Jun 2017 Lovely
beautiful tragedy
My master pieces were done on canvas
My body was my canvas
The blade was my paint brush
I always been fond of the color red
Brushing the blade all over my body
Head to toe
My paintings are private
But very valuable
The rich were only allowed to view my paintings
Love and understanding was very rare to have
And those that did have that
got to see the amazing master pieces that I have created
They all have different meanings
Watching the paint drip as I stroke the canvas with the paint brush

I decided to retire
I stopped painting
And the people stopped coming
But it's ok
I'll always still have the work that I have created
The,sweat,blood and tears I put into those paintings
Of course I couldn't get rid of them

They will always be apart of me
And now my art is not private
Its for all to see
To learn
To never become the artist I use to be

So yes I am an artist
well...I use to be
  Jun 2017 Lovely
Victoria Jennings
You've been cutting at my heart for years
The smallest remarks or wrong wording
Just tears at the seams of my heart until
There are too many ****** holes for me to fix or fill
And all I wonder is was it an accident or did you plan to **** me all along?
  Jun 2017 Lovely
Rodrigo Borges
My senses bring me my Reality.
My thoughts and opinions define me.
My feelings present me my fidelity,
My imagination is what makes me see.
Now!    Where or what is the real truth?
  Jun 2017 Lovely
Rodrigo Borges
If it was,
Like a dream it would be.
Through the haze
A solid image I see,
Sudden shades of matter
In the pure snow of clarity.

And upon the fallen entrance
A thousand chariots, decaying
Portraying the awesome lost charm
Of a time forgotten in memory.
Buried through the ages,
In a cloth of velvet white
Through which ,like a vessel
Time flees, taking my might.

It'd be, in the old manor,
Where one, tearing through the light
It was me, he'd awaken
As of a dream in the night,
Knowing not if real or a sight.
  Jun 2017 Lovely
Rodrigo Borges
If Time is al we have
What becomes of it?
Blessing or curse?
Suddenly struck by existence
I become one with the world.
There is no death, only beauty.
  Jun 2017 Lovely
Rodrigo Borges
Little scar
On my hand,
***** nails,
Smelly feet,
Good days,
Bad days,
Come rain,
Come shine,
I'll share
My golden pride,
Mother - Love
Funeral - Loss
  Jun 2017 Lovely
Rodrigo Borges
If you rise
You must die.
What if I'm dead,
Will someone read?
Countless winds,
Dreamy nights.
Roomy tents
Fire lights.

She exists,
I got my prize.
For what is death if not the reflection of life?
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