I drew.

I drew with the shapes I've learned to make everything of.

These shapes could be used

On a canvas absent of boundaries

And I drew

I drew of love, and hope, and suicide

An art that depicted loss, and solitude, and desperation

And all of this and nothing changed;

I knew not one thing more

Except I was given another thought

To pile upon the mountain of them

That drowns the whole sea of them

And soars through the air that was clouded with them



The thought?



It was love

That I had hoped

As I once contemplated suicide



The cure of loss

Of people and solitude

That made me living desperation



I would say I like to only think about things instead

But if I were to once listen to my feelings,

Well,

I would say not one single lie was etched here.