Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Stxlle Jan 2019
I've painted a face far from my own
I've painted it thick enough so no one will know

It rained and it poured.
The paint dripped to the floor

I panicked and ran as far as I can.
I covered my face with both of my hands.

I didn't want anyone to see me
Even I didn't want to see who that might be

I haven't seen her in so long
Me and her, we don't get along

She's my little secret that holds all my secrets
To hide her is the only way to keep it

I make sure no one is around then I lock the bathroom door
Its time for another battle in this never ending war

I take my brush and paint over my cracks
I paint layers and layers and hope it'll stay intact.

I take a long look in the mirror
My reflection says to come nearer

I saw the person I wanted to be
I close my eyes and count to three

I was ready to put on a show
I was ready to be someone I didn't know

I walk out with the smile I drew
I am now the person everyone is used to

They don't notice I am not who I portray myself to be
Deep down, I kind of hope they'll see right through me
I've been trying to be that happy person again by pretending to be that person. Suppressing my depression isn't exactly the best option but it feels like the only option. I don't know what to do. People like me for the person I'm pretending to be.
Xaela San Jan 2019
Her paintbrush is a blessing, a tool for her bleeding heart to be painted on the empty canvas.
annh Dec 2018
A *******-sism
Of bright and drip-fed colour
On earth-bound canvas
Jackson ******* (1912-1956) - an abstract expressionist painter renowned for his unconventional technique and media.
Wanderer Dec 2018
When words fail me
I imagine myself as an artist
expressing all my hopes, fears, dreams
through paint
on canvas
but the end result
would just be chaos
an explosion of color
an endless knot of lines
incomprehensible designs

because chaos is whats in my mind
annh Dec 2018
Floating and free-wheeling
Bright oil on dusty canvas
Tread carefully
Lifetimes linger underfoot
OpenWorldView Dec 2018
White clouds set on fire.
Ash blackening azure sky.
Infinite canvas.
Death gives way for new life.
Sara Dec 2018
keep me wrong to make me right,
hold me down and make me strong,
pull me in just to stand me up,
I've been your canvas all along
Do I look like a doormat?

////
Star BG Dec 2018
Into canvas landscape
to mirror journey I shall paint.
With word pigments as poet
sharing a mirror of self.

Sometimes colors are bright,
giving air of peacefulness for eyes.

Other times dark like night,
exposing just a glimmer of hope
from stars.

Tonight, I paint as hand heavy
lifts pen-like brush.

Grey’s for sadness
inside breath.
Red for pain of heart
from loss.
Brown for mud stuck to feet
feeling trapped.
Black for despair
that shadows me.
Tiny yellow specks for tinge of hope.

I paint to express
from deep carven forged from past.

Perhaps tomorrow my colorant will change.
More night time healing
Next page