We are critical.

We find flaws in
everything we see
because nobody
wants to write
about perfection,
even though sometimes
we wish we could just stay
staring into that
unblemished surface.

2. We are never satisfied.

We live our lives upon
mountains of
scrunched up
bits of refill and
ideas we gave up
trying to
express.

3. We never forget.

We write words about
eye contact made
three months ago
that we replay over
and over in our minds
even though it
stopped
being relevant.

4. We are fickle.**

Our emotions flash
from one
to the other
like strobe lighting that
disorientates us
until we feel as if
the world
will never be still.

5. We are exposed.

We don't know how
to keep our feelings
to ourselves so
we'll write them
down for
you to find
'accidentally'.

6. We are vulnerable.

We wear our
hearts on our sleeves
and won't lift a
muscle to fight back
if somebody tries
to break it
because we thrive
from the pain.

7. We will never stop.

We will never stop
feeling and
we will never stop
hurting,
we will never stop
breaking and
bleeding and
loving
even though the cycle
is endless
and we know what's
coming next.


We are addicted
to agony,
but we agonise
for the art.

I would like pay homage
For this incredible page
Depicting shining stage
Everyone's therapy
A drug free ecstasy
Dreams, and fantasy
Brought to life
Thank you for the impossible
Making things possible
You gave people relief
Opening doors to belief
Ideas, emotions, thoughts
Shared for the world to see
Setting many souls free
Planting the seed for the next tree
Traveling at an extraordinary speed
Opening minds so that people can read
And feed their brain & break the restrain
Inevitable to hault like a train
Holding you up high on my wall like a frame
Seeking truth never wanted fame
My favorite site I dwell in peace
For the founder, the director, and administrator
I would like to say thank you
For this marvelous opportunity
You have done well
You have accomplished
You have constructed art
You have extreme potential
You have impacted something
I can surely tell...

Something there, beneath her skin,
Begged me to come nearer.
I've never been able to quite decide,
What it was that made me want her.

Perhaps it was the way the wind,
Would toy with her golden hair.
The curls and twirls of all her beauty,
Envy not lost on the summer air.

Maybe even it was the sound,
Of her laughter across the room.
So light and lively, full of life,
Never fails to set the mood.

Then again, that flashing smile,
And the way she giggled at me.
It might have been something within,
Always trying to set me free.

I suppose it might have been the hush,
That would take a room by surprise.
People would stop for just a moment,
The moment she stepped inside.

Looking back, I know now,
That I might never know the cause.
For all the kisses spent and smiles lost,
I am glad I knew her for who she was.

You say you want romance
That you want it all painted out

You tell me you crave
Something beautiful
Vivid enough
For you to be able to stare
At it all day
And never lose interest

Well I'm not much of an artist
But I think I could be for you

I could draw in the features
Fill in the details
And color by number
Every single part of the picture
It might take me a while
But I've got time

My hands are unsteady
So forgive me if some lines
Are a bit uneven
I cannot promise you perfection
But I can try my best

I would take the steps to learn
How to capture passion
On a simple piece of paper
I would train myself in the talent
So that one day I could create
With a level of skill
Superior to others

See I am not much of an artist
But for you I would be
So I could paint the romance
That you want so badly

I am not much of an artist
But for you I would be
So I could paint you that image,
The one you've always wanted
And put both of us in it.