my heart is an empty canvas
waiting for someone to come
and paint colors all over it,
to etch out designs
that will bring it to life,
it waits in the cavity of my chest
for someone to come
and gently hold it in their hands
gentle enough,
like holding a newborn
promises whispered to it,
like secrets shared in the night,

my heart is an empty canvas
just waiting for the right artist

life is a canvas splattered with paint
the artist moves swiftly while lacking constraint
brushes drag slowly leaving their marks
over and under they draw their smooth arcs
and like these arcs which go up and go down
our everyday lives travel circles around
the tracks of the coaster which land at the top
and fall to the bottom in one sudden drop
like a drop of acrylic on the canvas below
which lands on the surface and stars in the show

What was, is now gone.
              Begin again, start anew.
The canvas is blank.

Life is blank
A page to write
A canvas to paint

We choose
What goes on it
We decide
How it will look
Who will be in the picture

So choose well.

Don't invite people to stay
Who will make the picture dark
Don't make an action
That will damage the page

Make your picture bright
No matter your surroundings
No matter your circumstances
You have a choice
To make your life beautiful

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder
So make your story
Make your picture
Beautiful for you
Don't try to impress another
For your life is yours
And it's beauty is determined
By you alone.

Make your life beautiful.
You do have a choice.

A canvas freash and white
Paint that's red and bright
Strokes placed with care
All done with the blankets stare
She drains her soul on to the canvas
For the final picture she is anxious
Sadly she will never see it
For amongst the paint she sits
Help was the only word upon her skin
Carved over old creations again and again
This newest piece of art
Is when she finally split her wrist and fell apart

I'm crazy for you.

And that's why I'm writing another poem.

Another canvas splattered with my gushy, mushy emotions.

Another fairytale romance covered in my blood, sweat, and tears.

I'm crafting a story where you're crazy for me too.

Where we can be together.

And I'm sitting here feeling my heartbeat race everytime I read your name.

And my knees go weak when I see your face.

And my eyes and ears widen when I hear your name.

I'm crazy for you.

And you'd probably call me crazy, or sweet, or generous, or a great guy, or a loser, or pathetic,

But as long as your calling, I'll keep answering.

So I hope you like this poem.
This canvas of my unstable emotions.
This fairytale romance drenched with my blood that I bleed from my fight.
The sweat that I pour from my fight.
And the tears that fall because of my fight.

I just hope you like this.
And I hope you like me, too.

But it's alright if you're not crazy about me the way I am about you.

But ****, if you were,

That'd be crazy.