He drew a red a heart on the white wall, his world was one of love.

Painting pictures helps to remember the shape of love;
Love in hell, life and above.

I love therefor I am, without it I am shadow from light filling the void.

I drink from your lips, honey like wine.
You drink from my heart, love like herion- addicted to each other.

Pumping the core making the body move and yet so slow do we fall because without it we speed up to hit the ground.

I love and lost and I'll love and lose again, this is the circle of which I choose to spin.

He drew a black heart on a red wall to express passion and lust but all he had was anger, for in losing her he knew he'd never get her back.

He knew she was with someone better, someone bigger.

****** issues led to the break and now his heart was shattered.

She left knowing he could do better, she had a secret she didn't want to share, she had a lost a child and could never love again. She lied to leave relationships before she got too close to lose again.

She drew a blue heart on a green wall and under that she wrote a poem to the child she laid to rest.

Hearts on walls being left to fade, color and time and as foundation cracks so does art.

Love only counts when its remember by the age, for we move on from what love was to what love is.

The child had been touched, beaten, ignored, the child had been cold to the heart so the child drew a white heart on a white wall and under it the child wrote "**** it all"

Bleeding hearts turn the cycle, we spin the tales and in the we feel