Me sitting in a chair with my usual poor posture
-we'll call this rest.

Behind me, a beautiful white ****** canvas
-we'll call this potential.

A shotgun loaded with paintbrushes
-we'll call this the medium.

Barrel in my mouth, the trigger clicks, then
  BOOM   
-we'll call this expression.

Look past my limp soulless body to the now finished canvas. What do you think?
-we'll call this interpretation.

The reds are deep and the blues are true; little chunks of grey matter
-we'll call this promise.

However, it all dries black in the end    
-we'll call this accurate.  

Me still alive in my chair staring at the wall. Pen in my mouth. Ink in my teeth
-we'll call this gnashing insignificance.