My face has always been malleable
a canvas of clay the nearest set of
hands could mold into whatever
they wanted.
It was soft and pliable,
changing with pinches and plucks
at my skin.
A girl of many faces,
never seeing her reflection the same
never knowing who she was
without the influence of others.
I don't know who you want me to be.

I don't know how to look past
all of the false layers of me
my face has been remade so many times
I can't even see what the original color was
or if there even was one.
I wonder if you have been shaping me
my whole life.
Always guiding and changing
what made up me
a hand on my back, steering.
Did you even look at first
to see what you were destroying?
Did you deem my real skin unworthy
of your time and energy?
Did you not like what you saw?

I want to hear you admit
to your mistakes.
I want your hands to bleed with
all the paint you've covered me in.
I want your mind to picture
everything you took from me
every impulse and dream and curiosity
you pushed out of my reach.
I want you to know
that I see where your hands have been
your fingerprints are all over me
my soul tainted with the essence of you
you took me from myself
you ruined me.

I was a masterpiece before you even
picked up the paintbrush.

To you who whip through your pain,

Remember that your mind is abounding,
It is  mesmerizing
that when you start to talk about your ideas,
it's like your wondrous mind is pulling me
inside this enormous galaxy,
not a mere galaxy that is empty
instead it is full of heavenly bodies
and colors and life.
I fly in comfort,
I feel weightless.
When you talk about your dreams,
I can picture you collecting the stardust
and making a life out of it
Your eyes speaks like an abstract
of meteor showers
and comets
and auroras,
painted in one great canvas.
The more I explore into it,
the more I could understand
the rhythm of your thoughts.
If you're thinking
that your life had fallen apart;
Remember me,
me who you shared your light and hope with,
You came to me like a shooting star, 
So rare yet so beautiful.

I've been painting a picture
for as long as I can remember.
I remember going out to buy the
canvas and paints, the brush and the easel.
I spent years on this painting,
making sure every stroke,
every shade was perfect.
I made mistakes,
but it was nothing I couldn't fix.
This painting is my pride and joy-
everything I have to show
for the last few years.
I invested everything into that painting:
time and money, tears and joy-
and then the painting was stolen away.
Sure, it might still be out there, maybe not,
but I don't think I will ever see it again,
no matter how hard I try.
All I can do now is remember how proud I was
of what I had accomplished and what went into it.
I think this is why it is so hard
for people to let go-
to start over and face a blank canvas
as daunting as that may be,
rather than not paint again.
This is why it is important to know
when to let it go,
to start again and forget
about my portrait
of you.

spray paint
on cement walls
honesty
in an art form

someday
i'll tag one of these walls
and you'll hold my paint cans
as we fill our lungs with smoke

Pushing limits walking away
Why wait when I could act
Misplace passive aggression
With a pistol and a guilty conscious
(AIM) reaches are not running
When space bars cage an existence
Pulling words from these characters
Shooting messages flips to shaders through the windows
Online presents will determine you’re future income
Pass the aggression into a sight with an eye at pin point
Withdrawing (ATM), coloring red as the floor
Checking the walls as pink matter
Saving the mixes for the pallets on set
Depositing later all the info I need to  evade
Panic attacks walking
Bullets wait for running
Esc...
I’ll find joy in drowning in my own painting

Painting the pictures I wanted to be in ~

Our life's lines are implied as parallels,
For they trace in the same direction
To our collective personnel's
profound destination:

As our life's lines are redrawn,
again and once again,
Our destiny's knotted into one,
A Triquatra till the end.

Know our lines stay parallel-
Though Infinite,  they'll never meet
In their never joining spell
Their truths within decept.