I let it all run Thickly and quickly I want them to see the messy horror of it all. But it’s not all blood, Rather it is the medium for my art: Pictures of roses, cardinals, apples The rouge on a woman’s lips An umbrella on a rainy day A wool sweater A pocket square against a black suit The traffic light on the corner of the street... Or perhaps I'll dip my quill in it and write Because that's what writers do.
They turn all that red into something beautiful...
I read a quote once that said, "Nothing ever ends poetically. It ends and we turn it into poetry. All that blood was never once beautiful. It was just red." (Kait Rokowski)
“Post a time when you were at your lowest but no one noticed” But the thing is when I was at my lowest, I never hid it, at least not in the long run I let the blood from my struggles pour from my eyes, It runs down my arms in vein-like trails and seeps into the creases of my palms It runs down my fingers, filling the whorls and arches of my prints Every touch contaminates and floods I spread it on the surfaces, smearing and painting with red: startling like a cardinal in snow and thicker than wine At times I regret being so open, thinking I should just keep things to myself But that would be to go against my nature To go against my deep desire for those I love to know every single intimate part of me; To see me at my weakest. Maybe it’s because there aren’t any secrets then It’s just me showing the world that when im strong, im strong, And when I’m weak, I’m weak. I suppose I don’t feel the need to hide how I'm feeling or what I am going through. To hide it would be far too much work And I don’t have the energy to hide.
We look at the sky peering up beyond beyond the last birds seeking home and the last rays of sun sinking behind the clouds but generally we see nothing it takes complete darkness to really see what lies in the ******* beyond but even then we forget the millions of miles separating us and the stars twinkling almost sadly in the distance
We are made of stardust yes, that is true basic elements connect us all in hues of an artist's color wheel but why do we acknowledge something so far when we are really more like what is right beneath our feet
Dirt overlooked but completely necessary allowing us to exist in our natural form something we touch and through that touch we feel the energy of the world
flowing like the blood through our veins flowing like the river down a mountainside flowing like the song out a bird like the ocean 'round a great whale like the air into our lungs like the tears from our eyes
A razor so deep in the flesh dancing far past epidermis to the dermis and then finally the hypodermis
He was the happiest he had ever been before
He didn't have to worry about expectations how people saw him because his blood would dry across the carpeted floor he hugged his friends for the first time He smiled and laughed louder than before because he had nothing to hide anymore Their faces nothing but dots and shapes
He danced that day and no one said anything how curious
he'd never had known if not for this blessed
He laughed at himself more than anyone else that day
The day came to end and he was so happy he didn't need to wake up tomorrow.
And there she was A rough scab on a smooth perfect knee With a chalky cigarette between bony fingers Chipped red painted nails Matching crimson accenting glossy white walls She knew she was dreaming Because of the ****** sun in the middle of the room Chapped lips crack with scarlet, staining teeth Surgical gloves reaching out from her beating heart Held in by pale marked skin Needles pricking gums, calling upon beads of ruby Incisors and canines fall out one by one Heavy tongue tastes gory wine Indifference and apathy sistering one another Stitches hold right-handed fingers in permanent crosses Though an opal ring falls through The shattering crystal lights the room ablaze Intangible flames lick the ceiling as it rises and the floor sinks An ever-expanding room flashing over and over in endless continuity Like a repeating reel of film catching on fire And then she was gone