girl in the bathroom paints on her face
covering the spots on her skin
hoping to be like the others
cover it for the mornings
but reminded by the night time
knowingly she changes her looks
unknowingly she changes herself
shimmering colors reflect the lights
perfectly pinched pink cheeks
but her mascara-full lashes smear
and the wings of her eyeliner droop
she knows she'll never be like them
how could she love herself
when everything she sees in the mirror
are the things she hates most
cries as she stares at her reflection
she'll never be like the other girls
with genuine beauty and poise
but the other girls aren't authentic
they paint on their faces
to hide the real girl underneath

Color the insides of my soul
With a black gloss paint

Empty the blood from my veins
Replace it with lava,
Keep it flowing through my heart

Fill my brain with tar
Let it harden,
To keep the headaches away

Turn my bones to to ash
Paint then neon orange flat paint
Because that's my favorite color

Make my skin redwood bark
Hard, to help keep away the pain
Because it's too much to handle

Erase my memories
Fill them in with a hypmotizing array
Of all the colors of the rainbow

I realize I'll look creepy
And scary as hell
But at least I won't feel anything
Anymore

I want nothing left
Of my miserable life
From before

I fought against the rising waves,
Trying to keep my head above the water,
Refusing to let myself drown,
I used up every ounce of will I had,
And pulled myself out of hopelessness.

I couldn't stand,
But somehow I found a way,
Lighting the darkest tunnel with light,
Painting the world with my hope,
Using the brightest colors to live my dream.

I never thought I could be broken,
Molded into the perfect tool,
To destroy others,
The same time I was destroying myself,
Turning the paintbrush into a weapon of steel.

Determination flowing in my veins,
I never thought I'd lose it all,
I started with so much,
Only to end empty-handed,
The fallen darkness too much to bear.

No way to fight the insanity,
I've pushed myself far past the limit,
My determination ****** my energy dry,
And I can no longer fight what's ahead,
I already know I've lost the war.

I find the pain in paint,
Even the simplest things can be complicated,
the most colorful things can be found colorless,
The most mended things can be called broken,
In this twisted excuse of reality.

My dear,
You don't even know
How much my thoughts are
Painted
With you.








*******.

Things I would never tell you
This morning
I dreamt of defeating my own demons
Instead of looking for yours…
I spent time
Losing myself in a swish of color
To paint a safe haven I will never have…
I walked and walked
Until there were blisters on my heels,
Just so I could distract myself from this numbness
I know as sadness…
I burned my skin in the shower
Until it was red and blotchy,
Hoping to wash off that numbness…
I thought about
Leaving the unwashed conditioner in my hair
So that maybe it would dull my thoughts…
If you asked me about my day,
These are the things that I would
Never tell you.

You're like a dash of paint
In a new canvas
Bringing color to my world
Because of the love you give

I cannot even draw a straight line
My masterpiece is a doodle stick man
My drawing of a heart doesn't look like one
But I'd want to show you the visions that I have

I'd like to sketch a portrait of you
Like Jack on Titanic would do
Or paint a thousand sunsets
Like what Michael learnt to do

I'd like to draw those sceneries we see
Or that image of your back as you sleep
The image of our hands intertwined
Paint the colors you gave my life when it was black and white

But I cannot draw..

I've been jealous of those who can
Express their love through drawing or painting
But I cannot draw
What my eyes saw

I cannot draw
Those comic strips
With our love story in it
I just have no talent in this field

I cannot draw
So the least I can do is write
Draw words from my soul and rhyme
Paint words to rhyme
Sketch stories into words and color them to rhyme

I cannot draw
But I can write

It's midnight
and my tear stained cheeks
might as well be canyons
carved by rivers
and it takes all of me
to not want to
rip my beating heart out.

I try to explain the world--
the deeper meanings to my mumblings
all of it a frustrating mess,
an artist canvas splashed with too many colors--
that it becomes impossible to depict which is what.
Is that blue or is that aqua, I don't even know anymore.

When it comes to understanding my thoughts,
it becomes a psychotic break from reality--
where I imagine my fingernails scraping
chunks of flesh from my neck.
I plead for my hands to place themselves around my throat,
"Please suffocate yourself please just let me out"

Begging for someone to understand the mess,
that the khaki colored object actually means something.
Each splotch a representation of myself
every detail aligned to explain a greater idea.

As arguments end, they scribble deep within
a sketch book of sickening black ink;
Marks its place in the drippings of my thoughts,
making those colors lost in translation
so not even the painter knows how they feel.