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roumen May 2020
I want to paint ..
I want to paint you every day..
your lips ..
your face..
your curves...
I want to paint...

I want to kiss ..
I want to kiss you every minute..
your eyes..
your hands..
your soul..
I want to kiss..

i want to love..
I want to love you every second ..
your life..
your dreams..
your spirit ..
l want to love..

I want to stop.
I want to stop the time..
I want to stop and paint you..
I want to paint ..
the girl I know ...
the kiss I feel..
the love i live ..
i want to paint...
one day...
i will...
Rand May 2020
Hold the pen and draw
Tell the pen to show
The mountain edge
A Flame on a bridge
A rainbow colored snow

Hold the pen and see
A Garden full of trees
A golden river
A talking flower
A child racing a fleet

Hold the pen and breathe
Tell the thoughts to scream
An eye with a vision
A mouth sings a rhythm
A step towards the dream

Put the pen and fly
In each way to try
Draw justice
Outline passion
Fill the air, don't be shy
Www.albadawiah.com
Sharde' Fultz May 2020
I might dare to paint love one day.
Or draw it. I haven't played around with paint much.
But when I imagine it put to paper its painted so perhaps that's the better medium?
Something about the brush strokes perhaps? Those little tiny lines but all having their own existence.
Their own job in being part of the final picture.
love is usually shrouded in reds and pinks and whites.
But that's not what I see.

When I close my eyes and try to imagine those feelings taking shape
Putting on clothes to present itself to the world

I see dark blue hues and sort of a glitter all over a black background
and the glitter isnt regular glitter but the glitter of the stars late at night out in the country when they blanket the sky.
And theres purplish colors ranging from the deepest purple to tiny streaks of the lightest pinks, and greys and whites and golds and earthy greens.

Every color that's rich and deep.

and theres this constant, ethereal movement. Like a dream.

Slow like the clouds floating lazily across the sky on an easy day. And theres a small white gradient around the edges to sort of make it glow...

I'm beginning to think love looks like a far away planet?

Ominous and beautiful
And it's corny, but I feel like we're our own little world.
Anamarija Apr 2020
Is there a better feeling
from standing before
blank canvas
with a bucket of paint
in your hand?
Peyton L Apr 2020
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.
A jab at those who have always made a point to take what's important to me away.
Letters from Lia Apr 2020
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.
Siin.li

Remember me, who you shared your light and hope with.
Mitch Prax Apr 2020
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.
Erian Rose Apr 2020
Her heart painted waves
Deeper than her rising flames
basil Apr 2020
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
dreaming of the future. wish i had some spray paint. or a smoke. and you. always you.

4.20.2020
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