Running through my mind, is you.
I want to tie you up, and stick duckt tape on your mouth.
Shut you up, stop accusing me.
Stop it, it's not my fault. It's not my fault.
My character is just a result of the circumstances I was in.
My feelings are a result of both our circumstances, and so are yours.
So why do I have to be the victim of all of this pain, this circumstantial pain?

Picture, drawing,
Painting, scribble.
You are in black and white
Drawn on my paper,
In my head,
In my bed,
I lie thinking about,
Are your teeth visible
Did I draw them wrong?
The deep red of obsession
in the background,
Do I draw, do i feel,
Do i feel for you
What do i feel for you like love.
Like, love?
Like, Love!?
No, I say that.
Words are empty.
Paintings, they show it.
Dark red of obsession
Or burgundy for stale blood.
Stale love.