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#watercolour
cityscapes and heartbreaks 808s and carrot cakes my life took a turn, a left you tried to make me burn but I left you at the alter, my destiny I cannot falter I let me get softer, left the slaughter watercolour paints and growing pains deep introspection and soaking rains get to the root of the issue, the root of the pain elevate, activate popping off like champagne
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Feb 3, 2022
Feb 3, 2022 at 10:14 AM UTC
watercolour paints
I stain myself on you Hold onto your every imprint Attempt permanence in your mind Vivid thoughts you stole Tainted brushes of colour Mould myself to fit your image Became a blank canvas Though I know too well I am watercolour I wash off
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Mar 26, 2019
Mar 26, 2019 at 5:46 AM UTC
Tainted
Us was here. --Watercolour
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Jul 23, 2016
Jul 23, 2016 at 7:14 AM UTC
The Story Of Us
i know you're tired the world got me weary, too -- Watercolour
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Jul 23, 2016
Jul 23, 2016 at 7:08 AM UTC
Tired
How fortunate Our color blends unintentially, Wildly with thoughts bleeding outside the lines what have we started: again And again I stroke And again you absorb And again this easel-- summoned And again your vellum-- softened Perched on a stool, Vibrant as mangos --ripening I chose you, the spectrum Unknown to most The only museum I go to.
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Jun 20, 2016
Jun 20, 2016 at 11:55 AM UTC
Watercolour Muse
Some people are born With crystals in their eyes And hope in their skies Of blue and green watercolour dreams. No such shimmering exists In here. The glimmer Of past wonder has long since Been destroyed by fear of existing.
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May 19, 2016
May 19, 2016 at 3:23 PM UTC
Existence
Clouds seep into The blue expanse like Coffee cream, watercolour Paint me an image Leave stains on my eyes when Holes of light poke the canvas Black coffee, you keep me awake Cerulean forever, black infinity Affinity for sugar, sweet embrace Stars leak brewed rain on a   Cafe window
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Jun 1, 2015
Jun 1, 2015 at 7:53 PM UTC
Untitled
we loved like watercolour i guess it ran too fast ☆
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Mar 20, 2015
Mar 20, 2015 at 4:40 PM UTC
The nightingale gives way to the ruddy dawn and foam blooms overhead among the early watercolour skies. I hear a blue-tit (or robin) whistling it's tune through the bulbs which rise bouncing from the rippling sea of soil, growing in seamless swathes beneath the leaves silken pink. The sun dapples through, reflecting a rosy hue into the glass dew drops fast melting into the thirsty earth, and peeps over the treetops before gradually bowing his glinting head. Old daffodils turn russet in the golden day and wrinkle as the clouds blush.
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Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 2:45 PM UTC
Spring
Place silhouette pieces or outlines of my heart in thirty or more envelopes. Paste each one with a new soft paintbrush which clean cream bristles. Push them into torn up fragments of clean new watercolour paper. The sharp edges feel through onto the wooden table leaving mistaken, accidental grooves. Glimmers of sawdust are ****** up into the pockets of your lungs, where they contaminated and will permanently sit. It was a small heart, the colour of grey sky reflected on seas and carried in bloated raindrops. The texture of diamond. Carved up as easily as wax by a blunt butter knife. The envelopes are neatly labelled with white tailors chalk powders.
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Apr 27, 2014
Apr 27, 2014 at 12:20 PM UTC
heart storage