And I shall paint the sky
with dye of evening breeze.
With eyes that match sparking stars.
And nights full moon
that shimmers to guide my hand.

And I shall paint
by direction
of heartbeats song of breath,
in hope of showing
the masterpiece of sky,
before me.

Depression is art
The kind few actually understand
It's poetry is embodied in the paint
That covers the artist's hands.
And the canvas drips words
That fill up the empty space
With colors of black and blue
To fill up the feeling of grey
Within the emptiness
Of the corners of the artist's heart.
But the design isn't yet finished
The last stroke waiting to breathe
On the canvas to complete it
Before the world can see.
Slices of red added to the portrait
And specks of tears too
To complete the last touch
Of the masterpiece for you.
...
But you know what they say
Most art isn't understood
And the poetry behind it all
Is lost in the colors too.
For you would only know
If you knew this:
That the art was her soul
But the canvas was her **skin

I'm not the way home reminds me
I waft through the world obtaining the ideals
Of unanimous prophecies

Spelling it as if it is so
He turns towards me and hands me the fine tip of a needle
open arms
Wide
Swings the words through catalytic loops

Soulmate
Forever
He says
Till the final throws of life come through my eyes
I wont breathe still youre mine

But I'm motionless
I freeze as the cracks take their form
The natural progression of ice melting
It signifies nothing
Nodding as the moonlight
Devours
I sit still for hours
Cigarette after cigarette
The thick chews of ginger candy
Wrappers clothing me

I'm the skin
Holding our bodies as they morph into one
As the paint fumes poison us
Rats tickling the walls

We lie
To ourselves
Above the sheets on the bed
I tell him I want to see the world
He perks
confused
"Aren't I your world?"

Paintings hover like sky surfers
Sparkle in the eyes of art lovers
One abstract
And the other more to the point
Some created impulsively
The others created
With the help
Of a joint

Ones man dirt is another man's gold
Respect your elders
Always do as you are told

You once said I made your life colorful,
But life written in one shade of blue,
Becomes tiresome for even the sky that paints it.

don't be afraid to drop me
because i will break.
if it's better for you to do it
do it.
if your arms grow too tired
to hold up a palette
and your ears come clean off, and mine
because my words seem so insincere
if i've become a deadweight.
pretty please drop me
with cherries on top
and sunshine sugar sweats dripping into flowerpots.
when the yellow paint wrestles with the
surface of your tongue.
don't be afraid to drop me.