Oh, young sunflower!
facing east towards the Sun.
You follow her for hours,
till dusk when day's done.
Her light shines bright;
colors -- vivid and deep.
But when her light ebbs
do you droop and weep?

His fingers
on her canvas
make her lips speak
poetry
so sultry
he can taste it
on his lips.

It's been a while
since I've felt her felt tip
scratch through the surface
Deep into my soul
to take me out of hiding

-x-

I remember how we parted
I regret not saying goodbye
And in a text back to a midnight apology
She had promised that she would write

She left an empty canvas
and a naive head full of dreams
and thoughts she never coloured
that festered deep within

I tried to draw her contours,
the little hat she used to wear
and beneath it, to recollect
the texture of her hair

But her pencils betray me
They don't want me to tell her tale
or mine if ever I was part of it
So I chose these words instead

Reams of paper in my cabinet
Meant for her delicate brushes
Black and blue stains of poetry adorn them
Like scars of sin on skin, permanent.

A million Gods to pray to
You'd think I was spoilt for choice
For my devotion was never aimed at them,
perhaps they do not heed my voice

-x-

It's been a while
since I've felt a felt tip
scratch through the surface
That provoked my senses
to come start fighting

I'm hanging on.. I'm hanging on..
But for how long?