You showed
me your true colors
so I used you
as pigment on an
already messy canvas,
because it’s my turn
to do the manipulating.
I wish my hands
were big enough
to sculpt mountains.
My own masterpiece
cannot hurt me.
I’m no longer
afraid of you.
I can no longer miss you
or be hurt by you.
Maybe you should
have used me
more beautifully.
But it’s okay
because I needed
the material.
Jul 9, 2015
Jul 9, 2015 at 10:26 PM UTC
You showed
me your true colors
so I used you
as pigment on an
already messy canvas,
because it’s my turn
to do the manipulating.
I wish my hands
were big enough
to sculpt mountains.
My own masterpiece
cannot hurt me.
I’m no longer
afraid of you.
I can no longer miss you
or be hurt by you.
Maybe you should
have used me
more beautifully.
But it’s okay
because I needed
the material.
Apparently wrote this a long time ago, just found it while looking through documents on my laptop.
