I'm an artist they say...
I painted my illusions of dreams
I drew on a smile everyday,
I was happy, so it seemed

But my palette ran low
As my colors faded grey
Now my life holds on by a thread
And I'm just fighting just to stay

Because as the days go on,
I let these colors bleed through.
From my paper to my skin,
I'm nothing but red, black, and blue.

I turned myself into a canvas
Trying to describe this strife
But it wasn't beautiful at all
For my paintbrush was a knife

And my paintings are nothing but
empty promises of what we once knew
The only color left in my life
Are my memories of you

I love the real me - the me I was born to be,
when I am surrounded by the forest trees
in the Australian bush lands,

I love the anxiety-free version of me,
when I am unrestricted and unrestrained
emotionally and mentally,
when I can breathe, as my chest freely expands.

I love the sense of freedom,
as my mind floats and dances through the bushes, like a precious, delicate butterfly,

I love the feeling of the earth grabbing
at my ankles, sinking my feet-- planting them deep inwards,
as I gaze through the evergreen canopy
into a perfect blue sky.

I was born
to be in nature's tender embrace,
if only you could see the satisfied look
on my innocent face,
when I am in the heart
of such a peaceful, magical place,

You would see an amazing, wondrous love,
as I let go and become a free little dove,
because the forests fits my soul
just like a second skin glove.

If anybody should be living in the woods,
It should be me!

City life has never cut it for me,
It's not where my soul chose to be,
Or wants to be.

I love being the real me,

The Rosalie,
that I was born to be!

By Lady R.F ©2017

My mental state is decaying
My universe... scattered fragments
And I watch myself collapsing
Silk melting
Clay figurine
Cracks against the surface
Shatters in this coldness
Of this dark road to nowhere
Transformation sealed on blueprints
Inevitable change
My world just collided