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Maja Oct 30
I was born a blank canvas

Now I’ve been painted with scars

Scars in my mind

Scars in my heart

I was born an empty sheet

Now I’m broken art
I was born, empty like space
meant to be filled with stars
Instead, my skin is littered with scars.
iamgone Sep 14
I shouldn't have to
put a sheet over myself
for you to see me
why can't you just see me for who I am
morn's cold sheet of frost
shall cover our small township
in an icy freeze
Savanna Nov 2019
I cleansed my sheets of you today
Spread out the sheet and tucked in the corners with extra care
Laid a blanket down, taking a moment to spread my hands across it, feeling the softness
Crawling into it felt odd at first
I knew you weren’t in it anymore
You weren’t wrapping yourself around me and keeping me warm while I slept
You weren’t protecting me from the world around me so I could have a moment at peace
That wasn’t you anymore
So now I have these sheets
Clean, fresh, warm, and not you
What a relief
I pull the sheets in closer, closer
Breathing deeply into them and asking them to keep me warm and safe
Holding me all night while I try not to dream of you
a mill
lies on
this street
then these
colors are
sweet by
the shifts
that bind
those sheets
willfully blessed
in their
must kind
of wheat
now it
fed the
mush in
their *****
a mill of bleeds
Diána Bósa Jun 2019
Melody.
Familiar strange.
Our music sheet.
Full of suicide notes.
Requiem.
thesa Apr 2019
art
if people were canvas
i was a blank sheet
and you were the masterpiece
c Mar 2019
Fit
Your fitted sheet
Never stayed on
Your bed.
I guess
You didn’t like
When things fit.
A Simillacrum Feb 2019
Was I
ever wrong?
You're asking me?

I was
wrong nearly
start to finish.

Could I
make amends,
I wouldn't try.

I can't pretend
what I've
done is some

thing I can fix.

Don't erase
all the pain,
all the hurt -
you know it was me.

My failure
of feeling,
of motion,
and failure to see

You, as you, without
my perspective skewed,
without my intent
slipping from
benevolence
and into
malevolence.

Darling, the
dead night,
the lonely
bedsheets
fit my crime
fine, but
are not
punishment
enough.
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