There was once a blank canvas.
It was new and perfect
And it was loved,
And then it was forgotten.
They left the canvas alone for years,
Ignored it,
Despite its many tears.
But then it was found again.
They took the canvas back,
though never apologizing.
Moving on, as if everything were okay
But that was when it all went black.
The canvas stood in the shadows,
those who once loved it had gone.
Strangers rubbed their coal-covered hands clean.
Left it on the canvas, and hoped it would not be seen.
Black streaks ran along the canvas,
but no one seemed to notice
So the canvas pretended to be okay,
all while trying to maintain her focus.
And then there came two,
brand new things to be adored.
Again, the canvas fell back,
Why did she think she deserved anything but to be ignored?
The time came, and the canvas was put on display.
By now it had aged and began to fall away.
They must have been angry,
They must have been scared.
Those who loved the canvas looked at it in a new light.
But this light was wrong, perhaps it would never be right.
One sudden move and dark thick paint splattered
All over the canvas.
Nothing else mattered.
They threw the canvas across the room,
Ripping a hole that might've meant sudden doom.
They yelled so much and threw it away
Then for the final act, they set it a blaze.
I am songs that are forgotten
I am stories never told
I am hearts always broken,
Withering, and old.
But I am light never receding
And I am a canvas in disrepair
But even a broken canvas is art,
And of that, I am aware.
YOU ARE READING
Numbing Waves
PoetryA compilation of short stories and poems about mental disorders, love, sexuality, and whatever my happens in my life worth writing about. These are the deepest regions of my conscious written down.
