between the li(n)es
Those jagged edges seem almost counterfeit, unworthy of their inked display-
(I)
One muse pouring into another and overflowing all over the canvas that was once bright.
(pray)
The colors mix together into a mess of poignancy, the rainbow palette turning into a murky and grayish brown;
(for)
I watch in dismay as the loving expression on your face falls to the floor in disappointment and shatters all over the aged linoleum.
(true)
I thought I was born to be a starving artist, but I fear that perhaps I wasn't ever meant to be born at all-
(salvation.)
How else could it be explained that these dots won't connect and these lines keep overlapping?
(I had it all mapped out, I swear!)
I toss the painting into the trash right next to the torn pages of parchment and ripped-up photographs.
(I thought I was golden and pure but that fantasy seems so far away now-)
"Oh well..." I sigh and take my seat. "Better to take up space above ground than below it, I suppose."
(these destructive qualities of mine may never be declassified; run while you can!)
YOU ARE READING
your heart breaks forevermore
PoetryA combination of both free-verse poetry and story-telling, I hope you all enjoy this collection as much as I enjoyed writing it. Poetry has always been such a peaceful escape for me, whether it be based on something real or entirely plucked from the...
