You don't understand
Pencil lines
And pastel colors
Are my paradise
Smudged graphite on my hands
Paint stains on my clothes
I don't need a journal of thoughts
I have the smell of art
The tip of my pencil
Pen
Paintbrush
Charcoal stick
They all connect
To my brain
To my heart
They are my escape
Grey gradients
And sharp black lines
Blended colors
And blurry figures
Pops of red
Inside of back
Pops of white
Inside of red
The smell of art
She lingers here
The art is scented
And here she lingers
You don't understand
I prefer my paper
And drawings and pictures
To you
I could sit here all day
In my artistic mess
I like the feel of art way better
Than waiting room chairs
I don't want to talk
I just want to draw
My pens connect to my heart
And my brain
Want to know how I feel?
I drew a sunset in blue
That girl is wearing a mask
And thy boy is crying tears of stars
Want to hear what I think?
There is a hand, shooting a gun
It hits a heart
There is a sink, overflowing with color
If you want to know me
Take a look at what I draw
What I paint
What I write
Art, she lingers here
She connects my heart to the paper
My brain to the lines as curves
Art, she lingers everywhere
You don't understand
You drag me away
I kick and yell for reasons
You don't understand
This is the only therapy I need
My pencils and I
I tell them to move
They listen and I dream
My pencils don't prod and poke
They listen and listen and listen
They do as their told
My pencils don't question
My paints they don't ask why
They simply put color in my life
That's all anyone could ask for
Art, she colors my life
You don't understand
I don't want anything you are offering
I want to be alone
Just my pens and me
I want to drown myself in paper
But it will be a good drowning
The kind that carries you away
A secret place
I want to overload my walls
But in a good way
That way my art can take me away
A sweet escape
Art is all I need
So shut the door when you leave
All I need is pencils and pens
And lines and curves and color
All I need is
Art and me
YOU ARE READING
Whispers Of Our Soul
PoesíaWords are the lifeline that connect my heart to the world. This is a collection of my 2am confessions and my 12pm ideas. Told from the viewpoint of my struggling mind, my broken heart, my wild soul, and my screaming mouth. "Distruggi quello che ti d...
