a big white wall,
to cover the whole,
scratches upon my soul,
beg to differ not to stain my works,
works of art i've trailed behind.
if you want to know me,
swim under the big wall of pale,
be ready and i'm sorry,
for the ugliness of my flaws.
with my sleeves rolled up,
multiples of flaws and doubts,
hiding beneath the folded canvas.
but that's who we are right?
flawed beings that still deserve to
be love.
there's no need to hide our flaws.
i dare you to wish upon the stars;
wish for someone would stare at your flaws with awe,
a scratch of destiny that'll stain their loveless life,
and then with your flaws and colours,
someone's life would better,
and then everything would be alright.
you're not pathetic,
you're fine.
YOU ARE READING
s o r r y
Aléatoireart doesn't come from happiness, sadness is a part of you that you need to fix them, if it was left unmend it will cause agony to your soul and mind and surrounding. everyone deserves to be hugged, kissed, fixed, glued,patched and heard.
