Here is a beautiful mural
But I think I shouldn’t add any more to it
It might get overdone or ruined
I’m all about not ruining a good thing
Just like when people ask me to sing
I’m not like the rest
People look for batteries while I look for the North to my South
Maybe I’m too serious about some things
But I also doubt myself too much
Trying to cut that habit out of my system

Paint me pretty, paint me bright,
Capture me in this adoring light.
Wish as you may, wish as you might,
Thing will never be as they are tonight.
Baby blue, cotton candy pink,
A yellow that pales next to my smile, you think.
Never a portrait, always a scene,
Easier to forget if I'm just a color scheme.
Lavender because it's my favorite scent,
Green to reflect how my irises glint.
Willows, weeping, for all that's been lost,
A field once vast now covered in frost.
When they look at the paintings what do they see?
Water lilies and bridges, never me.
Try as they will, try as they might,
only love makes you wonder at this sight.

Today is your birthday,
How years do go by;
Though your eyes
Never change
As they heighten
Your smile.
Your hair's long
And sun-dyed,
Your cheeks blushed
And high,
Your lips as sublime
As Mona's beguiled.
Your frame hangs now
In another's hall,
But you're the last,,
My duchess,
To decorate
My wall.

falling in love with her is like taking the square block and trying to put it in the circle slot
i got the premise set in stone but the execution was poor
like twisting and turning a rubiks cube to find that four colors of each side are missing
but im trying to solve it in spite of forgetting what the colors were
so i ****** up
really bad
and i guess romance is dead and there’s no extra lives
and now im playing hide and seek with my smile
looking in places that she smiled
where sunsets lie that even van gogh couldnt paint
but im not drinking yellow paint to make way for some fabrication of euphoria
because my euphoria sleeps with her
they’re really quite the bedfellows
but everything inside me is just the way she left it

There was a time
When I was with you
And each smile,
Each shiver was framed
And hanged
On the walls of our dreams.
Now I fall asleep
And everything
Is silent,
Except the screams
Of those paintings
As they crumbled
To the floor
And didn't mean a thing
Any more.


F.Z.**N

Let's pretend this
fleck of glitter isn't

simply a garish
pink freckle on a

blank canvas,
but an endless sea

bedazzled by a
playful, young mind.

The violence of roses tangled
In redolent blooms throughout her hair.
“Forgive me,” Venus said to herself,
As she struggled with the piercing layers.

She parted her tangled strands
Like the turbulent sea had parted her shell,
Within this brume around curly waves
Of blood and blonde so frail.

I look at these blue veins of mine

existing against a thin layer of fair skin that does little to protect

but if it’s all I have to keep my blood moving, pumping me back to life

every second I refuse to open my eyes

then I will have to deal with it

because we’re all like paintings held up high on walls to be admired

whether we decide to be like Monet or just ourselves.