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May 2015
stage one

you had a certain appreciation for artistic pieces
and a flair for crafting blue-black beauties
you looked at me and saw a blemished canvas
you said, "ah, potential for abstract art"

"thanks. let's take it slow"
so you led me by the hand
and laid flitting kisses
marking spots your fingers next would brush

stage two

blues too jarring and too much black
you created art you didn't understand
you threw a sheet over me
"cover yourself. you're a fright"
and with trembling hands
dragged out a fresh unblemished canvas

you were too afraid to breathe and I was too ashamed to speak
now it's all too unforgiving to think about your hands
you can't bring yourself to touch me and
I can't look you in the eye

you carried on with your masterpieces
while I stayed hidden under that sheet
I've heard it said
nobody likes to look at their mistakes

stage three*

I don't see him anymore

I think about how we smothered the best of us in apprehension, heat, regrets
and if I had to speak to him again I'd feel the same shame

never thinking, acting by instinct
like wild animals on a summer evening
it was an exciting picture
its undoing was it had little meaning

and now we carry our shame in different ways
he carves crosses into his veins,
I bury bruises he carefully laid
kiryuen
Written by
kiryuen
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