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ɪ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀ ᴄᴀɴᴠᴀꜱꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ʜɪᴍ,,
when he wanted purple, he'd beat me till my flesh blossomed like lavender.
when he wanted blue, he'd pull me under water till my face coordinated with the sky above.
when he wanted red, he'd delve edges in my skin and stand by till my blood ran out.
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HIS CANVASS | ᵖᵒᵉᵗʳʸ
Poetry"on his canvass he expressed his sorrow, his burden and his horror" ＃119 in poetry ＃42 in poesia
