Broad, feather-like brush strokes
Glide across the crisp, snow-white canvas
Colours swirl and collide
Like elegant ice skaters
Carving intricate patterns in the ice
The curves and planes of his face
Slowly form on the canvas
Piercing, ocean eyes stare back at me
His beauty captured and framed on the canvas
Frozen in vibrant colour and unfiltered happiness
Harsh purples and cold blues blend on my skin,
Like a painter spilt their colours on the desk.
A mistake.
The remnants of anger and vexation
Left behind by the dangerous storm that is him.
He's a breathtaking paradox
As kind as he is cruel.
As sweet as he is poisonous.
As lovable as he is despicable.
It would be pure madness to fall for such a hurricane of a person.
So why did I?
YOU ARE READING
My Rosebush
PoetryA collection of my original poetry about love, despair and longing. Most of my poetry is a reflection of my real life or based on personal issues, so bear that in mind while reading;
